Stolen:Kits
by Aroeheart
Summary: When BloodClan intruders invade ThunderClan camp, the deputy's kits are stolen by the BloodClan leader, Scorn. Little does he know, but these kits will change the future of BloodClan forever...
1. The Fire

**Hello, my signature name is Aroeheart, and this is a story. Obviously. And it's about BloodClan! *happiness* ^_^**

**ONE  
><strong>The Fire

On a typical day in ThunderClan, the camp was raided. The dusty green underbrush was alive with flames, spilled upon the landscape by an unknown source. While the air turned hot and stuffy, and the darkness brightened by the raging orange glow of fire, warriors rushed frantically past, collecting belongings and herding squealing apprentices across the dry, crunchy grass. Scrawny, ribby cats with dark, scraggly fur slunk through, their claws unsheathed, their teeth bared. Occasionally through the smoke came a lash of red blood, spattering the leaves of the bushes, as incisors dug into shoulders and weaponready paws raked unsuspecting flanks. Cries and yowls split the air, mixed in with the deafening crackle of flickering ember.

The leader of the Clan, Oakstar, stood in the midst of blood and smoke. He was sheltering two shivering kits, his own litter, mothered by a light-colored tabby named Tulipfur. His mate and his deputy, Reedtail, stood at the edge of the battle as cats tore past. The leader's side was drenched with blood, drawing nervous glances from Tulipfur's lavender-colored eyes, but his own gaze was clear and bright, shining with determination and bravery.

"Reedtail!" he shouted over the sounds around him. "There are too many intruders! And the camp is about to be engulfed in flames!" His two kits, one silver and one dark gray, mewled pitiably beneath him. He drew them close, hushing their soft cries gently, and looked seriously at his deputy.

Reedtail dipped his head quickly. "Most of the Clan has evacuated," he said, his voice concerned and taut. "But Calicospots, Thornstripe, Violetpetal, and Cherrynose are still battling. And we still have to check the camp for stray kits. My mate, Gingerflower..." - his eyes creased with worry- "...I don't know where she is."

Oakstar meanwhile had picked up his kits by their scruffs, handing them to Tulipfur. "Don't worry, Reedtail...we'll find her." He nodded to Tulipfur. "Take them to safety. I'll alert the other warriors. I'll tell them to go look for Gingerflower."

Reedtail's eyes furrowed as Tulipfur trotted, limping, into the forest. He looked at Oakstar. "Oakstar, she's my mate. I don't care if I die trying to look for her." Oakstar looked at Reedtail. The sleek black-and-white tom was increasingly courageous, and he knew he could break no barrier between a tom and his mate. He twitched his whiskers in consent, bowing his head slightly to let the warrior know how much he was grateful for his excellent service. Reedtail looked back, his eyes flashing, and flicked his ears. With that, he dove recklessly into the massive furball of screeching cats, leaving Oakstar alone.

Oakstar sighed, cringing as the large gash in his side throbbed, pain coursing through his veins. Concentrating on the cats before him, he dove to the edge of the camp.

"Warriors of ThunderClan!" he yowled. "Retreat! Retreat!"

The hiss of approval was heard from the invading cats as the warriors unhooked their claws from their opponents, turning towards their leader covered in bleeding scratches and masked with exhausted faces. Oakstar meowed, marking his position at the camp base. The warriors turned tail and fled towards the camp exit, pursuing their leader's withdrawing paws.

The invaders, seeing that they had won the battle, gathered together in a mass of spiky dark fur and bloody fangs. They seemed to have no fear of the fire, letting the flames leap around them as they sat. A large tom, pitch-black with eerie yellow eyes, hissed at his followers. The other cats remained perfectly still, bowing their heads lightly, indicating their humbleness to him.

"Well done, BloodClan cats," he mewed, his voice gravelly. "We have succeeded in driving the ThunderClan cats out of their home. BloodClan has won many battles in the past...but today, we have triumped over these flea-bitten forest fools for the first time. I can now say with much pleasure that we are completely victorious, and that makes this land that lies under my paws our rightful home. I take this territory as BloodClan's, forever until someone says otherwise, and then we will protect it with our life." The cats around him meowed jubilantly, elated in victory.

While the BloodClan cats celebrated, Reedtail was still darting among the flames, searching for his missing mate. He knew that the other warriors had left, and, truthfully, he was extremely worried. It was clear in his mind that if the BloodClan intruders discovered him and his mate, they surely would be killed. His heart panged at the thought. His mate was currently pregnant with kits, and if he and Gingerflower were to be killed, he would never see his kits. His beautiful kits.

The heat around him was increasingly hot, and it made his legs weak. High temperatures had never been easy for Reedtail, and he found them difficult to endure. The smoke thickened the air, making it complicated to breathe, and Reedtail fought for air. With too much smoke inhalation, fatal results could occur.

He winced through the blurry gray air, trying to find something. He was beginning to lose hope as he tripped over something sharp, tumbling headfirst into a hollow space. Dust flew up around him, and he tried to recover, tried to sort out a scent of some kind. And...

..._through a miracle, through all the fire and smoke, he smelled something._

His eyes jerked open wide, and he filed through his mind. The scent was...soft. Fragrant. Warm, and...milky. Reedtail brightened. _Of_ _course_! _The nursery_!

Not surprisingly, he spotted a furry lump wedged into the corner. Ginger orange spots dotted a black-and-gray coat, and white paws pressed into the wall. Reedtail recognized the pelt, and trotted over to his mate, not knowing whether to be despaired or overjoyed. She could easily be dead, and yet he felt like he had to have hope. He prodded her side lightly with a paw, praying for a response. _Please, StarClan, don't let her be dead. She has so much more in life to do. She has a family to look forward to._

Instantly, violent spasms rippled down her side, and Gingerflower's eyes creaked open, her pupils slit. Her eyes darted to her mate, and her expression crumpled. "Reedtail," she choked happily, and then coughed as another spasm traveled down her side, making her hunch and grit her teeth.

Reedtail knew enough about medicine to know that this was bad. He looked into his mate's eyes, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest as she rasped, "They're coming,"

Reedtail already knew the answer, but he had to ask. "What's coming?"

Gingerflower curled into a fetal position as a ripple sped down her flank, making her gulp and shake. "The kits."

Reedtail filled with dread. Why did they have to come now? While the camp was in flames and was being ruled by vicious invaders? His reply was instinctive. "I'll go get Pearlnose."

Gingerflower trembled, but she looked determined. "We can't go get the medicine cat by now. All the warriors are too far away." Reedtail faltered as he watched his mate turn over onto her belly, staring straight ahead, evidently frightened but also sure of herself. "I can do this myself."

Reedtail could do nothing but watch. Gingerflower wrapped her tail around her bulging belly, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Reedtail stood guard by her, watching closely for anything. He would have to be the one to crack open the slimy membrane concealing the kits, since there was no medicine cat nearby. He knew not many other toms served as medicine cats for their own mate, but what choice did he have? He was only worried that he wouldn't do it quickly or efficiently enough, and one of his kits would suffocate inside its unopened membrane.

It was only a few heartbeats before the first kit came. With a few spasms, the kit slid into the world. Gingerflower tried to be as quiet as she could, but she couldn't help eliciting a whimper. Reedtail saw the drops of scarlet blood that came with it and began to worry. Was that supposed to happen, or was it unusual? He didn't have time to think. He licked the sac roughly until it split, and out tumbled a kit. It was black-and-white, like him, with a berry-pink nose. It seemed healthy, and started to mewl for its mother. He pushed it gently into Gingerflower's side, and it began to suckle.

Gingerflower was shaken from the birth, but she still had strength. She bent over to lick her kit, tasting the scent. "I think it's a she-cat," she said unsurely, unable to tell through the smoke. She noticed that despite the soiled air, the kit was breathing like the atmosphere was clear. But there wasn't time to wonder. She could feel her muscles tightening up. The next kit was on its way.

Reedtail watched as the second sac came. It was smoother than the first, which made him relax a bit. Coughing from the smoke, he fiercely licked it. It popped open easily, and he took a good look at the kit. It had beautiful fur, gray with dark gold spots, and it had tiny tufts at the end of its ears. He placed it next to the first kit.

Gingerflower licked it quickly. She was beginning to look weaker. "She-cat," she choked. "I think...I can't tell through the smoke..."

Reedtail wished with all his might that the fire would reside. A river flood, a heavy rain- anything to stop his mate's suffering. He knew that giving birth into a smoky den was dangerous; the kit's tiny lungs wouldn't be able to cope. Although they seemed to be able to breathe easily, he knew it was only a matter of time before they would be coughing and wheezing, the same as he and Gingerflower.

Suddenly, pain racked Gingerflower, and she gasped, her throat convulsing. She dug her claws into the hard den floor, flattening her ears against her head. "The third kit's coming," she said. "Why does it...it really hurts...why does it hurt more than the others...?"

It happened in a flash. Gingerflower gasped, and the third kit burst into the world. Reedtail didn't have to look at it directly; he knew from the scarlet stain in the corner of his eye that this kit had caused much more blood to be extracted than the last two. Much more blood. All energy draining out of him, he licked the sac. It only took one lick to cut cleanly through the membrane, and in it sat a white kit. It was pure white, as bright as snow, with a plumy tail. There was something about its squinched-up nose that concerned Reedtail, but nonetheless he placed it next to his other kits and watched it suckle. He waited, but no more spasms, no more shaking. It was over. He had three beautiful kits.

He licked the third kit for Gingerflower. "We have three she-kits," he reported. But Gingerflower didn't respond. His stomach lurched, and he placed his paw on her side expecting the worst. But he could still feel short, sharp breaths. She was alive, but the birth had caused her to black out. Reedtail lost all hope. How would he get his mate and kits out before they died from the smoke?

Reedtail knew it was impossible. His heart sank. He laid down next to his mate, his head on her shoulder. If they were going to die, he was going to die with them.

Suddenly, through the hiss of smoke and crackle of fire, he heard a disctinct sound. _A purr_. He looked up in alarm, his ears perked, only to see a tall, dark shape easing towards the entrance.

He couldn't tell who it was. All he knew was that wherever the cat stepped, water sloshed around him. The flames died and turned into glowing red worms fading into the mud. Reedtail was shocked. _He controls the fire_!

The black cat stood at the entrance. Reedtail realized it wasn't any cat he knew- it was one of the intruders. The leader.

He didn't have time to raise his hackles. The black cat grinned, showing pure-white ivories.

"Such gorgeous kits you have," he meowed sparsely. And with that, he shot forward and struck Reedtail on the side of the head with his paw.

It wasn't a very hard strike, but the smoke had taken all his strength. Reedtail dropped to the ground, as much blacked out as his mate was. The BloodClan leader padded forward, laughing under his breath. Two slim, dark cats trailed after him, their eyes examining the kits.

The BloodClan leader brushed each kit with his paw. He drew back in surprise. They were still alive, even though they should've been dead long ago. They were all she-kits, but he was particularly interested in the pure white one. There was something about her that appealed to him. He dragged her away from her mother's belly, getting a closer look.

The kit's eyes opened abruptly. All three cats arched their backs at the sight.

"What's wrong with its eyes?" cried one of the followers, his green eyes round. "They're like...orbs of fire!"

It was true. The kit's eyes were red, getting orange and yellow towards the center. Whenever the kit's head turned, it looked as if the colors were moving.

The BloodClan cat spat. "It's a sign," he hissed. "A kit born into fire...usually I don't believe in such foolish talk, but now it seems..." He didn't finish. He looked at the kits, all three of them.

The second follower stepped up, looking sideways at his leader. "So...are they what you were looking for, Scorn?"

The BloodClan leader put his paw on the squirming kit. "Yes," he mewed thunderously. "They're exactly what I want."

**R&R, please. **

**Well, this story came from this dream! Well, sort of. I saw a black cat looming over three kits...all exactly as I described them...and the one he was most interested in was the white one, who for some reason had firey eyes. **

**Question Answering Time:**

**1. Is Scorn Scourge's son?  
>Well, you'll have to find out!<strong>

**2. Aren't BloodClan leaders supposed to not believe in "omens" and "signs" and stuff?  
>Well, yeah, but come on...that's boring. <strong>

**3. Is the white kit with fire eyes going to be a Mary Sue?  
>NOOOOOOOOOOO 8U<strong>

**4. How did the invader cats start the fire? And how does Scorn control it?  
>Magic. :3 (No, not really. They have their ways. And you'll find out if you keep reading.) <strong>

**5. What happened to Firestar and all them? D:**

**I'm pretending they didn't exist. Scourge did, however. **


	2. Allegiances

**Yes, the allegiances. I refuse to do anyone but ThunderClan and BloodClan; the story is mostly focused on those two Clans anyway. I always have fun making them, but then they're always boring to read. **

**ALLEGIANCES**

THUNDERCLAN

Leader- Oakstar- pale tabby tom

Deputy- Reedtail- sleek black-and-white tom with bright blue eyes

Medicine Cat- Pearlnose- fluffy white she-cat with a noticeably pink nose; sister of Cherrynose

WARRIORS

Sparkletail- fluffy white she-cat, mother of Pearlnose and Cherrynose

Marblepelt- black-and-gray patterned she-cat, mother to Thornstripe and Twinklefur

Cougarclaw- large dark brown tom with orange eyes

Thornstripe- black tom with gray stripes, blue eyes, Twinklefur's brother

Sweetfur- pale tabby she-cat

Cheetahspots- golden brown tom with black spots, green eyes, brother of Calicospots

Calicospots- calico tom with ginger and black spots, green eyes

Acornpelt- light brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes and white paws

Violetpetal- black she-cat with white muzzle and lavender-blue eyes, sister of Tulipfur

Cherrynose- fluffy tortoiseshell with a noticeably red nose

Twinklefur- glossy gray-and-black-patterned tom with amber eyes

APPRENTICES

Silverpaw- silver she-cat

Thicketpaw- thick-furred brown tom

Nettlepaw- dark gray tom

Littlepaw- black-and-gray she-cat

QUEENS

Tulipfur- pale silver tabby she-cat with lavender-colored eyes (Oakstar's mate, mother to Moonkit, a silver tabby she-kit, and Stonekit, a dark gray tom)

Gingerflower- tortoiseshell she-cat with amber eyes, (Reedtail's mate, expecting kits)

Aspentail- golden she-cat (Cheetahspots' mate, mother to Lightningkit, a pale golden tom, Leopardkit, a spotted golden she-kit, and Sandykit, a pale golden she-kit with darker golden spots)

ELDERS

Barkfur- dark brown tabby tom, father to Cougarclaw and Squirrelkit (deceased)

Spiderweb- furry black she-cat with stick-out fur and faded, hair-thin gray patterns on her muzzle

Tortoisepelt- tom with brownish-green pelt and green eyes, dark spots

BLOODCLAN

Leader- Scorn- tall black tom with eerie yellow eyes, called "Master of Flames"

Deputy- Sulfur- scraggly dark gray tom with a white muzzle and paws

Healer- Ashes- pale gray she-cat with crooked whiskers

WARRIORS

Scratch- dark brown tom

Crowbar- thin, ribby black-she-cat with ruffled, feathery-looking fur

Snook- gray tabby tom

Echo- light brown tabby she-cat with white muzzle, paws, chest, underbelly, and tail-tip, green eyes

Slash- dark ginger tom with green eyes, long scar across forehead

Kilo- large dark brown tabby tom with white patches

Sneer- light gray tom with crooked white muzzle, pale green eyes

Whip- white and gray she-cat with thin claws

Slash- dark brown tabby tom with blue eyes

Splinter- ginger tom with green eyes, tufty-tipped ears

Willow- fluffy pale gray she-cat with yellow eyes

Mink- reddish-brown and white tabby she-cat with fierce yellow eyes and a thick tail

Concrete- silver she-cat with darker gray spots

Mud- light brown tom

Vulture- almost hairless she-cat with bright, wide eyes

Viper- black tom with long front fangs and green eyes

Chipper- dark tabby tom with chippy, frizzy fur

Mist- sleek white she-cat

APPRENTICES

Panther- sleek black tom

Chalk- dusty-looking brown tom

Splash- silvery-blue tabby she-cat with amber eyes

Hunter- calico tom

Finder- tortoiseshell she-cat

Kip- orange tom with white muzzle

Coil- gray tabby tom with white muzzle, paws, and tail-tip with blue eyes

Hiss- white and brown tom with lighter brown patches

Rock- gray tom with faded silvery spots and short, crooked whiskers

Star- pure white she-cat with yellow eyes

QUEENS

Raven- sleek black she-cat with white eye spot (mother to Scorn's kits- Jay, a black she-cat with a white chest and belly with blue eyes, and Asphalt, a black tom with amber eyes)

Swipe- brown tabby she-cat with white tail-tip (mother to Splinter's kits- Cliff, a reddish tom, Rill, a tortoiseshell she-cat, and Blood, a dark ginger tom)

Scrap- white-and-black she-cat with blue eyes (mother to Snook's kits- Ice, a black, gray, and white she-cat, and Cement, a gray tom)

Flower- a beautiful golden she-cat, mother to Sulfur's kits- Pine, a golden she-cat, Wisp, a black tom with green eyes, and Claw, a dark gray tom)

ELDERS

BloodClan knows no elders. Everybody fights until they die. That's the way it is.

**R&R.**

**You might be wondering- "Hey! How come in BloodClan, there are so many warriors and apprentices, but there are barely any queens?" Well, I'll tell you. **

**1. BloodClan recruits cats off the streets. Whoever wants to follow, follows. **

**2. BloodClan could care less about the pain queens go through. You pretty much have your kits, and then you're back to fighting. Kits are tended to by everyone else, given milk subsitutes and such and such. **

**3. This is the way I think BloodClan should be. So it doesn't really matter, does it? **


	3. Awakening and Remembering

**In case any of you don't believe my beforehand reassurance about the ember-eyed white kit NOT being a Mary Sue, I can say that I also hate Mary Sues. But I also believe that characters need a little individuality, uniqueness, and special touches. So...ember-eyed kit comes into creation! Anyway, I'm going to write the story now. So you can read it and stuff. **

**TWO**

Awakening and Remembering

"_Reedtail_,"

That was the first thing that the deputy heard. He wasn't sure if the noise had even occured at first. It had been vague, barely catching the air. It was smeared and muffled, like a dream, and it only slightly aroused him from his subconsious state. But the second sounding of his name was louder and clearer.

"Reedtail."

It sounded more natural now, more real. The deputy was frightened. Though he now was sure someone was calling his name, the voice was still thick and unrecognizable. He couldn't tell who it was. If it was someone he didn't know, how did they know his name?

"Reedtail!" 

The deputy woke with a start. Bright light made his pupils telescope, and he turned away from the vividity. Blinking vigorously, he looked around. Wherever he was, it wasn't familiar. Instead of patches of soft green grass swarming over sunbaked earth, he was lying among the forest floor, littered with last leaf-fall's crinkled brown leaves and sprinkled with twigs. The dewy smell was comforting, reminding him of his apprentice days when he would crouch too low to the ground when he pounced, until his mentor Tortoisepelt had corrected him. He knew he was in the forest, and yet he couldn't smell any sign of camp. The intruders and the fire seemed so distant now...

He was in some sort of den. The whole thing smelled of toadstools and moss, and a tail-length away he saw a line of black ants crawling along a piece of bark. As he focused on the insects, a wonderful smell hit his nose- a ThunderClan cat's smell. The smell of home.

He turned his head, with much effort, towards the cat who had called his name, only to see the fluffy white fur of Pearlnose. The medicine cat looked quite serious, her blue eyes wide as full moons and her pink nose twitching. Reedtail knew something bad had happened the night before, something besides the smoke and fire, but his memory was clouded. He looked at Pearlnose expectantly.

The she-cat sighed in relief. "Thank goodness you're awake," she mewed, her voice trembling. "I thought you were going to die. In fact, we all thought you were going to die." She pushed a few shiny black seeds towards him, directly under his muzzle. Poppy seeds. Reedtail ate them, wondering why she had offered them to him. He was still recovering from whatever had happened to him, but he certainly couldn't feel any pain at the moment. Now that he thought of it, his whole body felt fuzzy and stiff.

He tried to move. Pain shot through him, and his head throbbed. He grimaced and lowered his head, one paw clutching the area below his ear. He shot a glance at Pearlnose, who still looked apprehensive. "What happened to me?"

Pearlnose gulped, her usually neat whiskers tusseled. "I don't exactly know. We were all running away from the fire and the intruders..." She paused. "Can you still remember that?"

Reedtail nodded, only to feel more pain under his ear. He winced. "Yes...I can remember..."

Pearlnose blinked and continued. "You went to look for Gingerflower. Oakstar told us that you had insisted...and of course, he let you do it...he said he wouldn't want to deprive any tom of love for his mate..."

Reedtail felt dizzy. "Gingerflower? What...where is she...?"

The medicine cat hushed him quietly. "Please, just listen for now. Don't try to stress yourself. Anyway, you were gone longer than we thought, and when Oakstar came back, the intruders had left, and most of the fire had gone out because it was raining. Oakstar thought it was unusual that they had left...and we were worried..." She trailed off, her throat tightening. Pearlnose was known for being emotional and overprotective.

"Go on, please," Reedtail urged.

"Everything was ruined," Pearlnose choked. "Everything. All the trees..." She sniffed. "...they're burnt black. Oakstar and I looked everywhere. And we found you in the nursery, with Gingerflower...you were both laying there, blacked out...it was horrible. I can't bear to see any deputies or queens like that. We were sure you had been killed. But you were both still breathing. Somehow. If that rain hadn't come when it did, I think you would've died from inhaling so much smoke..."

Reedtail took it all in. "So why does my head hurt so much?"

Pearlnose shook her own head. "You probably bumped your head on the wall when you blacked out. It's really a minor injury, but the smoke inhalation contributed to that. Your memories also might be a little fuzzy, so that's why I asked you if you could remember the night before..."

Reedtail scrabbled at the ground with his paws. "Gingerflower!" he yowled. "Where is she?"

The medicine cat narrowed her eyes, flicking her thick tail. "Well, Reedtail, she'd not in a good situation right now. She inhaled more smoke than you did. She's in bad shape." She lowered her voice. "Reedtail...I hate to tell you this, but..."

Oakstar burst into the den. His gaze was focused on his deputy. "Reedtail!" he yelped, and trotted over eagerly. He turned his attention towards Pearlnose. "How is he? Is he alright?"

Reedtail blinked, joyful at seeing his leader. "I'm fine," he mewed, his voice hoarse. "Just a little too much smoke." He tried to crack a smile, but the mood was heavy. He still couldn't remember all the details of last night, and mixed in with that and his worry for his mate, it was impossible to act happy.

Oakstar sighed. "We went back to look for you, Reedtail. I thought you wouldn't make it, to be honest. When you leaped into the battle to go look for Gingerflower, I was expecting the worst to come out of camp has been destroyed, and the BloodClan intruders have taken over." His eyes hardened. "After so many attempts, they finally did it. Their Clan has just grown too big. Once we were inside the nursery, BloodClan cats leaped out and hissed at us. We had to get you out of there quickly." 

Reedtail had just remembered the moment when he'd told his leader he'd sacrifice himself for his mate. His memory slowly became clear. "Am I going to get better, Pearlnose?"

Pearlnose nodded. "There's a very high chance," she mewed. "You will need to stay here for a while, though. It's my makeshift medicine den. We're at the edge of the forest now, and all of ThunderClan is living here. I was around collecting herbs for you half the night last night." 

Reedtail's tail straigtened. "Where is Gingerflower?" he repeated. "I have to see her. I _must_."

Pearlnose looked pained for a heartbeat. "I'm sorry, Reedtail, but you need to rest for a day. And Gingerflower needs to stay put as well. Like I was saying before, she's pregnant. I'm sorry, but her kits probably aren't going to make it. Smoke is unhealthy for kits."

A fragment of memory came back to Reedtail. "Wait...but she's already had her kits," he mewed without thinking.

A mew elicited from the medicine cat. "Reedtail, your memories are still faint. She still has a good-sized kit bump, so she'll be having them very soon...but, queens do have kit bumps a little after they..." Pearlnose stared off. "...have...their kits..."

Reedtail felt uneasy. Everything was coming back to him. "Pearlnose?" he asked hurriedly. "Are you sure that my memories are still fuzzy? Because I remember..."

Pearlnose gasped. "I didn't check all the way," Pearlnose meowed. "I was too panicked about saving you two. I just figured that if her belly was still big, she hadn't had her kits yet...but there was blood around her tail region..." Pearlnose looked at him, frightened. "Oh, no, Reedtail..."

Reedtail leaped up, despite the agony that tore at him. "BloodClan cats!" he yowled. "There was a tall black one. He controlled the flames somehow! He came into my den and then he struck me on the side of the head with his paw and..." His mews floated into the air.

Pearlnose was quivering now. "Reedtail," she said darkly. "What are you meowing about?"

Reedtail turned towards the medicine cat, his eyes boiling with rage. "My kits!" he screeched. "My newborn kits!"

"_They've been stolen by BloodClan intruders_!"

**R&R. **

**I can tell you're all annoyed by Pearlnose's personality. But I wanted to make this chapter a bit "la-di-da and dramatic", so I did. She isn't a Mary Sue, she's just very, very close to aaaall her ThunderClanmates. **

**I also edited the "cat act" overall. In the original Warriors saga, mates are an eency-weency bit less attached to each other than in my story. **

**Question Answering Time:  
><strong>

**1. OH EM GEE! Pearlnose is SUCH a bad medicine cat! She didn't even know that Gingerflower wasn't pregnant anymore? Even though she was bloody under her tail? Wow!  
>Well, Pearlnose is quite the emotional little kitty. She was so panicked about the both of them that she didn't notice, even if it was a big thing. <strong>

**2. (continuation of 1) ...Well, then how come she didn't check Gingerflower all over after she'd been rescued? She had all night to find out!**

**She found out that Gingerflower was suffering from immense smoke inhaling, so she spent a long time trying to heal that up. Plus, Gingerflower (as I decided) also has a burn wound on her cheek. AND she had to worry about Reedtail. AND everyone else, including her bloody-gash-on-the-side leader.**

**3. In Chapter One, you said that Scorn didn't strike Reedtail all that hard. So why does he have AMNESIA?**

**Because, the smoke also blurred his memories. I don't even know if smoke does that, but it seems like it would. I'm not the research-y type, okay? And plus, without his amnesia, the chapter would be like this...**

**Reedtail: Where's Gingerflower?  
>Pearlnose: She's suffering from smoke inhalation and her kits might not make it!<br>Reedtail: She's already had her kits. DUH. **

**Pearlnose: WHAT?  
>Reedtail: Wait, what? OH MY STARCLAN! MY KITS HAVE BEEN STOLEN BY BLOODCLAN INTRUDERS!<strong>

**XD**

**4. IS SCORN SCOURGE'S SON OR NOT?  
>Stop asking me, O Impatient One. You'll learn soon enough. (I love pretending that people are asking me questions. It clarifies things and makes 'em simpler.) <strong>


	4. The Naming of the Kits

**If any of you are wondering, there's a very low chance I'm going to be switching the story back and forth from ThunderClan and BloodClan. I'm mostly going to be focusing on BloodClan, since that's where our three little newborn kits are at the moment. **

**FOUR  
><strong>THE NAMING OF THE KITS

In the moments following after the white kit had opened its eyes, the puffy gray clouds shrouding the night sky loosened and spew rain upon the landscape. The dark gray and black tom looked at their leader with wide eyes. They were both wondering if the rain was his doing, to quench the flames that crisped their new territory. It wouldn't be a surprise...their leader was dubbed the "Master of Flames". It was true that their leader had experience with fire, knowing how to control its massive strength. This current fire he'd started with a Twoleg tool of some sort. He'd found a small box in the dumpster and emptied its contents, small wooden rods with cushiony red tips. Sulfur possessed no knowledge whatsoever of how to start a fire, and to tell the truth, he didn't want to. His leader might've been comfortable with flames, but Sulfur always felt nervous around them, as if they'd leap out and grab him. They looked as if they would; their writhing embers reaching and grabbing at the sky.

Scorn noticed their awed looks and spat at them. "It's not me, you fools," he hissed, lashing his tail with contempt. "It's been cloudy all night. I may be the Master of Flames, but not all fire-quenching is my job to do. I did, however, pick today because I knew that this would be a large fire to put out. I tasted rain this morning and had to organize an attack quickly." He turned on them, his cold yellow eyes narrowed with pride. "Skilled planner, aren't I?"

Though their leader was fearsome, he was surely an excellent leader. Ruthless, yes, and cruel...but very clever indeed. Viper and Sulfur were some of the best warriors in BloodClan, but Scorn definitely towered above them. He had been trained to be leader, after all, by the legendary Scourge himself. The creator of BloodClan.

Scourge had been an icy killer, raking his claws through flesh at the drop of a whisker. Scorn was a bit more careful than that, quick to put things together and talented at controlling things. There was one thing, though, that Sulfur secretly admired about Scorn...he had a sliver of a soft spot. Why else would he leave the frail tortoiseshell in the corner alone instead of killing her? And he could've batted the tom lying on the ground much harder. He could've easily killed him. If Sulfur had been bold enough to ask, he'd either get a fierce cheek scratch or a sneer and then, "Why would I kill them? They're completely helpless. And I might want them alive for later, since they're obviously the parents of these three kits."

Scorn, meanwhile, was watching the three kits carefully. She-kits...reminding him of his own two kits that his mate, Raven, had recently birthed. He liked Raven...explaining the reason why she was his mate...as she was a skilled fighter, perhaps not as skilled as Sulfur or Viper, but...she still tried hard. And she was ferocious. Instead of bowing to him like other she-cats might, she had confronted him and treated him like any normal cat. It was her daring streak that made Scorn respect her greatly. Yes, respect. BloodClan wasn't exactly the most love-laden Clan there was, so mates were more like very close companions. And his kits. He saw real potential in them. He knew that either his daughter Jay or his son Asphalt would be the next leader when his time passed.

While looking at the kits, Scorn noticed that they weren't completely ordinary-looking cats. The white she-cat's nose was twisted to the side a little, and it twitched constantly. The tortoiseshell's limbs were crooked, and one ear was a trifle smaller than the other. The black-and-white kit's front paw was stiff and limp, and Scorn predicted the little kit would have no use for it.

And while the white kit's eyes were captivating, he knew the strange color would make her a slight outcast. They didn't seem to possess any other purpose than a sign or a message of some sort. He was the Master of Flames, and her eyes were like small infernos. He knew what it meant- these kits were destined to be trained by him.

Viper jutted in, his green eyes quizzical. "Have you decided to name them, Scorn?" He gave his tail a gentle sweep, scattering dust over the kits.

Scorn studied the newborn cats carefully. He made a quick choice. "I'm going to. And, what's more, I'll even train them myself."

Sulfur hissed. "What?" he yelped, his back fur raising. "Why would you do that, Scorn? Treating these Clan kits as your own? You'll grow attached to them!"

Scorn dug his claws into Sulfur's tail. "Quiet, Sulfur!" he growled. "I don't need your feedback. These kits have Clan blood as it is, and I don't need any of you idiots being the one to train them. I will train them to be proper BloodClan cats. I may not be their father, but why shouldn't I be able to teach them?"

Sulfur, his tail now hurting on a number of levels, knew better than to protest. Scorn had made a decision, and that was that. Arguing a second time would be fatal, but Sulfur couldn't help but look at the kits and wonder. It'd been done before- kits would be scooped away from Twoleg nests and tossed to a random cat as their responsinility. Their leader couldn't care less about new recruits. Why wouldn't Scorn do the same with these kits? He'd been on the lookout for more kits lately, but after they were part of the Clan he never cared about them much. Sulfur let the thought slip away, like an unimportant memory. His leader worked in mysterious ways. Who was he to question his authority?

Viper slunk back to Scorn's side, glaring at the white kit. "I would keep an eye on that one," he mewed tautly. "Those eyes...they just aren't natural. I think something's wrong with them."

Scorn started with the white kit, since her name would be the easiest. He studied the white one's eyes; her fur. "Ember," he mewed. It was fitting. Her eyes, the color of leaping flame, tied with her fur, white as ash.

He looked at the black-and-white kit. What object did he know had the same hues? The image immediately came to him: a black night sky, dotted with white stars and a glowing crescent moon. "Night"...a time of sneaking and lurking. It would do.

"Night," he meowed, nodding at the black-and-white kit. He turned to the tortoiseshell. "And this one...Mist." He like the smooth sound of 'Mist' describing her foggy-gray coat. The dark, cloudy vapors that shrouded the Twolegplace on humid mornings.

Viper blinked in approval. "Those are good names, Scorn," he mewed. This was said truthfully, but one thing irked him...they were a bit more mild than the usual BloodClan name. Normal ones were "Scratch"..."Vulture"..."Blood". These ones sounded a bit more pleasant. But they did describe the kits. His only problem...Scorn seemed much more interested in the kits than he felt comfortable with.

Scorn picked up the tortoiseshell by her scruff. "Take one," he ordered to his deputy and warrior. "I want these kits back in BloodClan as quickly as possible. I will announce to the Clan that these are our treasures, our _keepsakes_...from ThunderClan. To show that we really have won this time."

Outside the nursery, smoke wreathed around the territory, billowing every which way. A few BloodClan cats were scattered here and there, marking the territory with their scent. A few warriors would have to stay in ThunderClan territory to ward off any cat who dared set paw on their land. Scorn had instructed them to rip any passing cat to shreds. This meant that Scorn would have to recruit more warriors as soon as possible. He needed to keep his Clan extensive.

A thought flickered in Sulfur's mind as he saw the BloodClan warriors marking the camp. He set his kit down, staring at Scorn, perplexed. "Scorn..." he started. "Won't the other Clans rebel? They'll be angry that we chased ThunderClan off, and there's no way our warriors could handle three Clans."

Scorn replied with a calm flick of his ear. "Three Clans? Pft. I assure you, I've taken care of that." He kept on walking, his tail held high. Sulfur wondered what his leader meant. He shrugged it off, picked up the kit, and followed him.

It was a long, dreary walk back to BloodClan's original territory. They wove through trees and leaves, wettened by the drumming rain, until they reached the slick, muddy black streets. The kits were getting wet, and they mewled. Scorn dug his teeth lightly into Mist's scruff. "Quiet," he growled, and the kit squealed, then quieted, apparently getting that he wanted silence.

Scorn was irritated. _How could they handle thick smoke, but not a little rain_? _Strange kits_.

The white one was no different from the others. Aside from colorful eyes, it was just as annoying as the rest. But the eyes had to mean something. It was a topic he couldn't ignore.

He waited until the metal machines on the road had passed, and then swiftly crossed. He darted through a few shrubs, a few broken fences, and then welcomed the putrid, urban smell that was home.

He eyed the dumpster ahead of him. Piled trash and slabs of wood curved over the hard, rocky space. Masses of Twoleg rubbish, chunks of powdery block and even some fallen trees, served as their home. Dodging a piece of falling trash, he navigated his way through the ruins and entered the dark, murky cave entrance. Only BloodClan cats knew about it. A rush of bittersweet smells hit his nostrils- the smell of scrawny, hungry, bloodthirsty cats, and of blood itself. The red liquid stained the walls, discolored paws, sat in puddles on the floor. The ceilings were surprisingly high, the walls lined with dirt and trash and leaves and branches.

This was BloodClan.

The cats turned his way, scarred faces showing many moons of battling for territory. Chicken bones littered the ground, and scraps of fur from prey leftovers. Their eyes glowed in the dark, wide, irises mostly engulfing thinned pupils. Their eyes were glued on the three kits that smelled so different from what they knew. Then, the gazes fixed on Scorn's face. Fear and admiration pulsating in their stares.

Scorn set down the kit. He let Mist turn over on her belly. Gently mewl. Scrape piteously with her pinky paws at the dusty ground.

Scorn raised his head, his ears turned forward. "We won."

Yowls of glee filled the walls of the gigantic den, sounding over the rain that beat fervently outside. Through the crowd, a glossy black cat slipped, a white marking over her left eye. Skimming past the three kits, she reared up and nipped Scorn on the ear. It hurt, but that was BloodClan love for you. Painfully affectionate.

Scorn couldn't leave the kits unmentioned. Nipping Raven back, he nudged the tortoiseshell kit forward. Sulfur and Viper did the same with Night and Ember. The BloodClan cats hissed in surprise as they caught sight of the white kit's fire-colored eyes. And, slowly, they noticed the twisted features on all three. And the ThunderClan scent. They looked at their leader, backs arched.

Scorn placed a claw on the white kit's back. "These are a few- souvenirs- I secreted from ThunderClan territory." With that, meows of delight echoed throughout the room. Scorn dug his claw into Ember, making the kit squeal. A drop of blood oozed out of the opening, dripping down the thin coating of white fur. Scorn smirked. Blood...the fluid all BloodClan cats loved to see gush out of fresh wounds. He licked it off his claw, savoring the metallic taste. "They are to show that we are no longer as weak as those filthy Clan cats think. We have taken some of their kits, and if they rebel, we shall not hesitate to to it again."

Raven hissed softly, using her long, thin claws to nudge Ember's small, furry body. "What's wrong with this one?" she growled, spitting at her uniquely pigmented eyes. "Does she have some kind of disease?"

Scorn had been watching, and the eyes didn't appear to be hurting the kit. They seemed normal despite the fact they were strange in hue. "We used fire to invade ThunderClan camp," he explained. "I found these kits lying in an abandoned den. They were newborn, it appeared. The father was awake, so I had to take care of that...and the poor mother was exhausted and was lying in a corner. Probably going to die from all the smoke. I had to put out the fire so the poor scoundrels wouldn't suffocate...and their kits, too."

"I've been searching for a few more kits, as you all know. These three just so happen to have warrior blood...and while that may not benefit to us, it may help them. These kits are named Ember, Night, and Mist...and do not be alarmed by Ember's eyes. I think they are merely a sign that they are the kits I've been looking for, and that they will make excellent BloodClan warriors."

A third cheer arose, but was quieted. Scorn wasn't finished. He looked down at the threesome of kits disdainfully. "These kits should've died in the smoke," he snarled. "But that is another sign. These kits are destined to be trained by the Master of Flames himself."

Instead of cheers, or even growls, there was quiet. A dark brown head popped up in the mass of cats. "But, sir...don't you already have your own kits to train?"

Scorn caterwauled a yowl. "Quiet, Kilo!" he demanded bitterly. "Don't you defy my decisions. If anyone else were to train these kits, they wouldn't do it as precisely as I would. I am not superstitious...and I don't believe in signs...but this is an exception. I have never before seen fire-colored eyes...nor have I seen the survival of such tiny, new kits in thick smoke for that extended of a time. It obviously means something, and I can't deny that. I will train these kits beautifully. Perhaps I will pass my knowledge of fire onto them."

All the while, Raven sat at his side quietly. Her green eyes were slit. Scorn knew that wasn't good. As the crowd of cats murmured around him, he bent down to where Raven was examining the kits. "What in the name of Scourge is the matter, Raven? Aren't you happy I found the kits I've been looking for?"

Raven flattened her ears. "Happy? _Happy_? What about our own kits? I'm entirely sure you're forgetting about them. I mean, teaching these forest kits about fire? That's what you said when Jay and Asphalt were born." She turned away from him. "You don't realize what you're doing. You idiot."

Scorn was taken aback at this. Lately, Raven hadn't been too fierce. Something had set her off. He peered into her eyes. There was something there besides anger. "Impossible...are you jealous?" He hissed. "That's so selfish."

Raven whirled around, scratching him on the cheek. "Who's being selfish?" she growled, and stormed off.

Scorn watched her go, and felt a pang in his chest. Raven was being stupid, he knew. BloodClan wasn't about their kits. It was about fighting for the good of the Clan as a whole! Even so, he felt guilty. But he wouldn't let his feelings show. He was Scorn. And he had to act like it.

Scorn picked up Ember, motioning Viper and Sulfur with his tail. Each of them bent down to pick up a kit, and then slunk after Scorn to the leader's den. The whole thing was covered in bones, and splattered with brownish red stains.

Ember, Mist, and Night were set down next to Scorn's nest. They immediately began to move around, mewling in thin kit voices that were barely audible. Scorn watched them, and laughed. "They are very lively, as well," he meowed. "Even without milk since they were birthed, they're still strong. They will be great BloodClan warriors."

Sulfur looked at his leader unsurely. He had seen Scorn's mate storm off. They had been in a skirmish about their kits and whatnot. Maybe he _was_ getting too excited about these kits.

"Are you sure that these kits are good for our Clan?" Sulfur mewed. "Forest blood. It could be bad luck for us." 

Scorn snorted. "Nonsense. I've taken care of everything. The mother and father would never dare come here to fetch their kits, and they're both probably dead anyway. Those lousy ThunderClanners would be run over by the Twolegs' machines as soon as they set paw on the road. They know nothing about here."

Viper piped up. "Then what about the other Clans? How could you possibly ward them off?"

Scorn snickered. "Ward them off? Why, they'll be agreeing with me. Have you seen the way that ThunderClan has treated all the other Clans?"

Viper hadn't. But the leader knew what he was talking about. He watched Scorn plop down into his nest and gnaw on a bone, wondering what he could possibly be thinking. He gave up and left the leader to chew his bone in peace.

Sulfur bounded up onto the slab of where Scorn's nest was positioned. "Shouldn't they have some milk?" he asked tentatively. "They'll die without it."

Scorn grunted in annoyance. "They'll be fine until tomorrow," he mewed casually through a mouthful of bone. "I'll find them a milk mother then. Right now, I want to test them to see if they're as immune to smoke as they seemed in ThunderClan territory."

The leader got up and leapt over to a pile of trash. He rooted through it, muttering under his breath. "Hmm...not here, not here...where the tail did I put them...?...ah, here we go. A nice full box, too."

Scorn pulled out a box made of Twoleg material, and ripped it open. A mound of small wooden sticks piled onto the floor. Sulfur's eyes widened. He recognized those. Scorn had used them to start the fire in ThunderClan when they were invading. He watched Scorn pull a piece of flat, woody-looking stuff that sparkled in the moonlight that poured into the cracks of the den. Holding one of the small, red-tipped sticks in his mouth, he scraped the red top against the thin slice of the tough, glittering papery stuff. Sulfur was a bit surprised as he saw a little orange flame twirl out of nowhere, turning the red head of the stick coal-black. He tossed it onto a small pile of Twoleg trash, where it crackled and sent sparks into the air, spreading its flames across the garbage.

Sulfur watched as Scorn plucked Ember away from the side of his nest and suspended her over the flames. He wondered if his leader was going to burn the kit.

The smoke density clouded the kit's face, the same as before. The difference: Ember instantly began coughing and spluttering.

Scorn pulled the kit away and dropped her. His yellow eyes were bewildered. "That's certainly strange," he mewed. "They weren't doing that before." He tried again with Night and Mist. Same thing.

Giving up, Scorn dragged a Twoleg container filled with muddy water and poured it over the small fire. It died down, fading away into illuminating red-orange glow worms that sizzled in the pile of now-blackened trash. Scorn seemed irritated, so Sulfur left. His leader was unpredictable; you never knew when you might get your intestines gouged by his thick, dog-tooth-reinforced claws.

Scorn tucked the kits away into a ball of dry moss to stop their mewing, and listened to the pitter-patter of rain on the roof above him. Usually he was active during night's hours, but it'd been a long fight and he needed to rest. A shaft of moonlight sliced directly onto his nest. Scorn peeked up, annoyed, and in that shaving of sky with the rain trickling through he was sure he could see the icy-blue eyes of Scourge.

Scorn blinked, and it stayed there. He shook away his bedding and straightened up, staring straight back at the cold, frigid blueness.

"I'll make you proud, Father," he vowed. "I'll be the best leader BloodClan has ever seen, you wait."

**R&R.**

**Wow, that chapter seemed longer than usual. Oh well. **

**Question and Answer Time:**

**1. So...Ember seems Mary-Suish. IS SHE?  
>NOOO. She's just a "sign". And I have plans for her later on. Yes, she is the main kit in that group, but she will NOT be overly heroic, beautiful, perfect, or powerful. She will NOT be a Sue. <strong>

**2. So Scourge IS Scorn's father! How did Scourge die?  
>It's a secret. For the whole story. <strong>

**3. Will you ever say what happened to Reedtail and Gingerflower?  
>I might. But writing about ThunderClan is boring sometimes. <strong>

**4. I thought you said BloodClan love was more like companionship. So why is Raven so emotional about it?  
>Raven is probably in "real love" with Scorn. She values their relationship more than he does. Haa, don't worry, Raven...he'll get it one day...<strong>

**5. Who's going to be the next BloodClan leader- Asphalt or Jay?  
>I don't know. Jay is the girl, and Asphalt is the boy, and I was planning for a male leader...but "Jay" sounds a lot more majestic than "Asphalt", doesn't it? <strong>

**6. Eew. Scorn uses matches to light fires? That's stupid. **

**Stupid, but I couldn't think of anything else. I'm not a fire expert. **

**7. (continuation of number 6...) ...He used water to put it out? That's ALSO stupid. **

**Well, what else do you want me to put it out with? **

**8. What is Scorn talking about when he says "The other Clans will agree with me"?  
>You can guess. But I won't tell you 'til the time comes. <strong>

**9. Isn't burning trash toxic?  
>...It probably is. But let's pretend it isn't. <strong>

**10. (confusing question with a confusing answer) Okay...if Scorn brought the whole of BloodClan to battle in ThunderClan camp, how come there were a bunch of cats when they came home? **

**Not all of BloodClan came. Then, when ThunderClan ran off, some of them stayed to guard the new land. Then Scorn, Sulfur, Viper, and some other BloodClan cats came home. Remember, BloodClanners are fierce and have big claws, so they can kill/fight easily.**


	5. The Start of an Invisible War

**This chapter's about Scorn's son and daughter, Asphalt and Jay. They are about five moons old at the momento. It's more of like a short story about them until the end. This will probably be a long chapter.  
>WARNING: This chapter contains bloody content that may not be suitable for some readers. <strong>

**FIVE**

The Start of an Invisible Battle

"Bet you can't catch me, Jay!"

A muscular black kit propelled himself around a sticky-looking nest, his long, thin tail swinging in rhythm with his paws. His amber eyes were bright with excitement, the pupils augmented to the size of small pebbles. His claws were surprisingly sharp, catching on pieces of rat fur as he darted to and fro.

A little further away, a she-kit was sitting rigidly, staring down at the nest below her. She, her brother, and her mother (who was absent at the time) had the privelege of being located on the top platform. Slabs of broken concrete made up the nests, and cats with kits curled up in damp boxes made of cardboard that smelled faintly of Twoleg food. Her fur was as black as her brother's, only shinier, splashed with white on the chest and belly. Her blue eyes twinkled with exasperation.

"Shut up, Asphalt," she snarled in reply, focusing still on the nest below her. "A real BloodClan kit wouldn't play mindless games. Why don't you concentrate on getting revenge instead?"

Asphalt stopped, disappointed, and trotted over to his sister. "Revenge?" he mewled, confused. "Why would I want to get revenge? And on who?"

Jay flicked her ears, as if Asphalt was nothing but a mosquito and was a bother to everybody. She dug her tiny, jagged claws into the sides of the cardboard box, almost splitting through its thick surface. "You're an idiot. BloodClan gets revenge on everybody who wrongs them! Especially her." She tapped her tail impatiently on the pile of dried leaves, dirt, and old feathers that lined the box. "That little brat."

Asphalt blinked stupidly. His sister was always meowing like this. She sounded like a miniature version of Scorn, their father! "Who? Who's 'she'?"

Jay was fed up with Asphalt. He was the son of Scorn, but he knew nothing! "Her!" Jay screeched. She flagged her tail, pointing to the box below her. "Ice."

Asphalt leaned over to see. There was Scrap, a nursing queen, a skinny white she-cat with black patches. Her two kits, Cement and Ice, frolicked constantly. Or at least Ice did. Ice was very pretty; with her tufty white, gray, and black tabby fur. Her unusual colors seemed to attract other male kits. BloodClan was a Clan of hatred, but Asphalt had to admit, Ice sure was cute. Always chasing butterflies and walking so daintily.

Asphalt snorted. "What's wrong with her? She's plenty nice."

Jay snarled loudly, so loudly that queens at the bottom platform turned to see what the racket was. "That's the entire problem, you moronic fool!" she spat. "BloodClan cats aren't supposed to be nice. They're supposed to be mean and fierce. We're supposed to kill!"

Asphalt had heard that a million times. But being a little good-looking and a little bit friendly surely couldn't be a crime. There had to be something else. "Is that all?"

Jay twitched. "Of course not. I really hate the way she's always flouncing around, making all the toms stare at her lustfully when she's but a tiny, useless kit! Just yesterday, Viper was in charge of the prey pile, and there was this big juicy mouse on top. We never get mice. I asked him if I could have it, and he said yes. But then Ice comes along and says, 'May _I_ please have it?' and strikes some charming pose. Of course Viper gives the mouse to her instead, and when I hissed at him, he told me to shut up and go away. Hmph! Wait 'til Father hears!"

The situation sounded unfair, but Asphalt didn't think much of it. Jay was Scorn's daughter, and that gave her many priveleges. One mouse made no difference. "So what're you going to do about it?"

Jay snickered. Which was creepy, Asphalt noted. Jay narrowed her icy blue eyes and mewed, "I'm going to make her pay."

Asphalt felt his limbs start to tingle. What did his sister mean by that? She couldn't hurt Ice. She was only five moons old. She couldn't be a killer yet! "Are you going to kill her?"

The small black she-kit swept at the leaves beneath her. "Maybe. But for now, we just have to think of a plan to get her with us alone. So we can punish her."

That made Asphalt freeze. He tripped, landing facefirst in a flat plain of dirt. He scrambled up ungracefully, spitting dirt. "_We_?" he hissed, rubbing his tongue to rid himself of the taste. "What are you meowing about? I don't want to be included in your...your _scheme_." This was a mistake. Jay hit him with her claws, hard, in the center of his belly. Blood began to flow out, and Asphalt hunched over, howling. Jay smirked, licking the sweet-tasting blood off her claws. "It's not a scheme. It's a wonderful idea. You're going to _help_ me..." -she squished his tail with her weight- "...and you're going to _like_ it."

The black kit writhed in agony. Jay was scary! He would do anything to make her stop smashing his tail. "Okay, okay!" he squeaked, flapping his front legs. "I'll help you!"

The she-kit grinned and released him. Asphalt leapt away, still hunched over, and shivered. "Ow, Jay...wh-what do you want me to do?" Jay shook her head, clucking. Asphalt was _hopeless_. "I've brewed a brilliant plan while you were babbling," she mewed. "Since you're the innocent-looking stupid one...you're the bait. Listen carefully, because I'm not going to repeat myself- right now, once I'm done speaking, go ask Ice if she wants to chase beetles behind the dumpster. She'll agree with you, because she's a fool like you are. I'll be waiting there, and once she's there, we'll corner her so she can't escape. Then we'll tell her all the things she's done wrong. And then we'll-" -Jay unsheathed her claws- "...beat the daylights out of her."

Asphalt stopped in his tracks. His blood went cold. He blurted, "But I don't want to hurt her!"

He braced himself for another blow of Jay's claws, but she only scoffed. "Fine. I'll do it myself. But your job is to help me and not let her get away. Once she's learned her lesson, we'll let her go, and perhaps she won't be so greedy anymore." The little kit looked down onto Ice, who was giggling at something Cement had said. "That disgusting butterfly-chaser. She should be a house cat, not a BloodClanner." She faced Asphalt. "Well? Aren't you going?"

Asphalt struggled to sit up. He looked at his sister pleadingly. "But..." he mewed timidly. He pressed his paw over the wound Jay had made. "...b-but I'm bleeding."

Jay rolled her eyes. "Oh, for Scourge's sake." She swiftly pushed together a chunk of moist dirt and patted it over his mildly bleeding belly. Asphalt squeaked; it stung. "Now go. I don't have time for weaklings."

Asphalt knew better by now then to talk back to Jay. It was like they were in a wolf pack- she was the dominant cub, and he was the cowering, puny omega. He slunk off, the mud on his belly making his scratch feel miserable, padding carefully down the sloped hill of trash that led to the second platform.

Scrap, who was watching her kits with two mixed emotions- irritation and affection- was a rather large queen, and she didn't like other kits around hers. He kept close to the wall, scooching around into the corner, until Ice spotted him. Even though he thought Ice looked nice from afar, it was scary confronting her.

Ice seemed happy to see him. Then again, she was happy to see _everything_, from chewed-up rat bones to floating flower petals. She climbed out of her box and pounced over to him. This caught the vigilant attention of Scrap, who growled at him. But Asphalt was much more afraid of what Jay might do to him than what Scrap could. After all, he was the son of Scorn- no queen dared to hurt him.

"Hel-_lo_, Asphalt!" she chirruped, her plumy tail curling in delight. "What brings you here? I'm so glad to see you." She rubbed against his flank, making his face go hot. Flirtsome, he could tell. And seemingly sweet-natured. But Jay was always right...so she had to have negative qualities, too.

"U-um," he stuttered. "I just wanted to ask you...if you wanted to go chase beetles by..." He strained to remember Jay's words. "...behind the dumpster."

Ice beamed. "Of course," she mewed. "I would love to do that! Especially with you." She licked his nose. But Asphalt held his ground. He suddenly saw what Jay meant...she was a faker.

"Well, let's go!" she mewed, springing ahead of him. She wrenched her head around. "Bye, Mother! I'm going to go catch some beetles with Asphalt!" Without letting her mother respond, she bounded away and circled the corner of the exit. Scrap scowled at Asphalt, showing that she didn't like the sound of this. Asphalt cringed, and treaded softly after Ice. Scrap wasn't happy, but what could she do? If she laid a claw on one of Scorn's kit, she was rat meat for sure.

Asphalt felt sick as he felt Ice's dramatic enthusiasm. She had agreed to go too quickly to be real. Evidently, instead of using her claws and teeth, every time she wanted to get what she wanted she used her charm. Suddenly, he felt cheated. And sulky. Whatever flirting she did with him was just some tacky act. He didn't care what Jay did to her anymore.

He felt a furry tail tap him on the shoulder. "C'mon, silly, we're almost there!" Ice mewed in a syrupy voice. Asphalt wrinkled his nose. He swore he could smell flower nectar. It was cloyingly saccharine and made his stomach churn. _Gross_. _Don_'_t tell me_..._Ice rolls in flowers_?

A rancid smell wafted into his nostrils, relieving him of the flowery one. It greeted his scent glands- the smell of hot, aged garbage, mixed in with the smell of half-eaten chicken wings, crusty ends of Twoleg food, and dead rats...which sounded wonderful to any true BloodClanner. In between the sky-high trash piles, roaches and black beetles scuttled. The dumpster.

"We're here," he mewed feebly, scraping his paw across the ground. Where was Jay? She said she'd be here by the time he'd arrived.

Ice took a couple big sniffs. "Mmm, I can smell chicken!" she chirped. "Maybe we can have a snack before we go beetle-catching!"

Asphalt found it a little bit annoying that Ice had to make everything she said exclamatory. He eyed the spot in the dumpster where there was a big, shady space, surrounded on three sides by garbage. It was perfect. "Hey...I bet we could find some rats over there."

Ice nodded. "Uh-huh," she mewled. "And chicken bones, too. Mm, I love chicken. It's so tender..."

Asphalt tried to look for Jay as Ice jabbered on. There was no sight of the black-furred kit anywhere. But then he remembered...she would be hiding. He swallowed, and crept into the garbage-surrounded space. He wondered if Jay really was going to kill Ice.

He stopped at the edge of the shady garbage towers. Ice padded on, her eyes on a large dead rat. "Ooh!" she squealed. "A rat! And it's a big one, too! I wonder if it died a long time ago, because then it would be tough, or if it died recently, so it would be nice and..."

"...Oh, please shut up," a voice meowed from above, echoing across the dumpster. "Your high-pitched voice is wearing out my ears."

Ice, putting on the blameless act, turned every which way, her eyes wide with fear. "Who's there?" she mewed, quivering.

It was Jay. Asphalt saw her standing regally on top of a mountain of trash, her black fur ruffled by the midday breeze. Slitting her eyes at the she-cat, she leapt nimbly down, landing on her paws. She took care to lick her shoulder, which had a spot of chicken on it.

"You like chicken, don't you, Ice?" Jay mewed between licks. "Pity. I just found a whole chicken wing and ate every bite. But you can hike back up there and gnaw on the bones if you want."

Any other kit would be infuriated by such a statement (well, actually they wouldn't, because all the other kits were afraid of Jay). But Ice just stood there, paralyzed. She appeared to be afraid of Jay, too.

"H-how nice to see you, J-Jay," Ice squeaked. "Wh-where did you come from?"

The chicken on Jay's shoulder popped off, and she caught it in her mouth, chewing noiselessly. Jay blinked, snorting. "I came from a normal BloodClan family that knows how BloodClan cats are supposed to act," she mewed. "Unlike you. You're always acting like a house cat."

Asphalt swore he saw a glint of rage in Ice's eyes. "I-I'm not a house cat, Jay. I'm a BloodClan cat, like you!"

Jay finished her chicken, and gulped the mouthful hastily. She got up, staring Ice down, and backed her into a corner. Asphalt followed in hot pursuit. Jay was going to do it...her first killing.

"You know what's wrong with you?" Jay snarled. "You're nice. You're disgusting. Always acting so innocent so you get what you want." She put a pawful of unsheathed claws up to Ice's throat. "Are you going to plead guilty, or am I going to have to kill you?"

Ice, who was at the verge of tears, didn't get it. "Wh-what are you talking about?"

Jay dug her claws into Ice's throat, and ripped them across her neck. Ice fell to the ground, gasping, blood pouring from her injury. Asphalt watched, mesmerized. He'd never seen so much blood before. It washed on the ground in a small stream and stained the top of her chest. Ice's eyes were frozen wide, but they weren't cloudy.

Jay saw his perplexion. "I didn't slit her artery, stupid," she growled. "If I had, she'd be spurting blood like a water pipe." She pressed her paw against Ice's cheek. "Do you surrender? Or are you going to continue to be a stubborn brat?"

Ice didn't answer. Asphalt looked closer. The slash actually wasn't that deep, but it was long. Ice just looked like she was afraid she'd gargle blood if she answered.

Jay scowled. Her claws sunk into Ice's cheek, making her scream, and raked them slowly down to her chin. Jay chopped off the peeling skin layers, leaving four bloody claw marks. These were very deep. White flashes glittered in the middle of the blood, and Asphalt realized it was bone. "Do you want to talk or not?"

Ice coughed, and immediately howled. The movement had made her face injury throb. She writhed in pain, blood dripping down her fur.

Jay looked at Asphalt. "She doesn't want to admit that she's a liar," Jay mewed. "I've given her too many chances." She smiled. "Let's torture her."

Ice groaned in protest, her limbs flailing, and Jay seized her legs with her teeth. "Watch carefully, Asphalt," she hissed through a mouthful of fur. "This is a technique I learned from Father." And with that, she crunched down. Ice yowled, tears flooding down her cheeks and stinging her wounds with salt. Jay laughed maniacally, and wrenched upwards. There was another crunch, and another howl. Jay flinched, looking annoyed. "Oh, stop whining. Asphalt, get some dirt and stuff her mouth. I'm tired of hearing her squeal."

Asphalt scooped up some dirt. He was surprised at how unaffected by all this he was. He secretly swelled with pride. Maybe he was fit to be in BloodClan after all. He tossed the dirt in Ice's mouth, making her choke, and packed it down firmly. He peeked at Ice's paw. It was bending the wrong way, and underneath it the skin gaped open, like a mouth spewing blood. Jay was working on another paw. "Now hold still," she mumbled. _Crunch_.

Instead of being horrified, Asphalt watched intently. Jay would be furious at him if he didn't watch and learn how to do it. It looked easy- just bite down hard on the paw, then wrench up. Pretty simple-looking, except Jay was a lot stronger than he was.

Ice's front limbs were still flailing, one of which whacked Jay on the nose. With a vociferous snarl, Jay shot a glance at Asphalt. "You do the front ones," she snapped. "I don't want to waste time."

Asphalt was glad he had watched. He crouched down, using his front paws to pin Ice's legs down. She was too weak to do anything about it. Before doing it, he looked at Ice's face. Swelling now, it looked ugly and distorted. Her eyes, leaking tears, looked at him. He read them easily... _I thought you were my friend. _Asphalt felt a twinge inside him, but not of regret. More like... _cold_-_blooded_ _delight_.

He clamped down on her paw, and bit down as hard as he could. _Crunch_. Ice was screaming through the dirt, mixed in with sobs. Asphalt liked the sound of the cracking bones in his ears. Blood on his tongue, he yanked upwards, hearing another satisfying _crunch_. He did the same with the other paw.

Once he was done, Jay looked at his work with a pleased expression on her face. "Well done," she hissed. "Now she can't move." She loomed over Ice's bloodied face. "You hear that, Ice? We're going to claw you unrecognizable."

Ice screamed. Jay licked her jaws, which were soaked in scarlet, and placed her paw on Ice's ribs. Asphalt thought she would claw her again, but he was wrong. After a few more tantalizing heartbeats, she removed her paw from Ice's rib cage. And sat contently, licking her paw. Asphalt recognized the image: _that's what Scorn does_. _That's what Father does_. And he knew- Jay was going to be the next leader. For sure.

Jay struck at the most unlikely moment. It was amazing- she was licking her paw, her head bobbing, and then suddenly she wasn't. It was a one-step thing. She was on top of Ice's rib cage, and somewhere, Asphalt heard something being crushed. Judging by Ice's repeated howls, it was probably her ribs.

Jay stepped away from Ice. The side of her chest looked twisted and lumpy. Jay backed away, her eyes locking with Asphalt's. "Your turn."

Asphalt didn't know what to do. Her body was pretty messy anyway, but Jay wasn't going to let him pass. He wanted her to stay pleased with him. Scrutinizing Ice's body, he found one perfectly fluffy untouched object: her tail.

The black-furred kit made a beeline for her tail. Ice's eyes followed him with dismay, trying to connect his movements with his actions. Asphalt tried not to make it apparent that he was going to target her tail, since he wanted to launch a surprise attack like Jay. He turned around, making it appear as if he was pacing, trying to decide. He stopped at her belly. His eyes focused on the ridges of her spine.

He waited a few moments, and then pounced. He pictured the soft, mossy tree branches he had once helped slice when his mother was lining the den. He only used one claw, for a cleaner slice, as his mother had instructed him to do with the tree branches. He hit right on the base, cutting through the delicate flesh. Of course, her bone wasn't as soft as a tree branch. Once he was through the skin, he used the rest of his claws to slice. Once it was off, he was shocked that he had done it. Blood poured from the tail stump, and Ice wailed.

Jay trotted over and nipped the tip of his nose. "Good job, Asphalt. You're pretty good for a beginner." His nose-tip had a pearl of blood growing on it, but he knew she had done it out of affection, not to hurt him. He almost smiled.

Jay trotted over to Ice's dying body. "One last thing before I kill you," she snarled in Ice's face. "I've always hated you."

And with that, she slashed Ice's throat, on the artery this time. And Asphalt saw that Jay hadn't been exaggerating. Once the claws had made contact with the all-important blood-pumping source, a gush of red sprayed. And Ice was dead. Just like that.

Asphalt sat next to Jay, who was licking blood off her claw-tips. "So," he mewed, his voice hoarse. "How are we going to explain this to Scrap?"

Jay stopped. "Easy. We tell her some stray alley cats did it because she was eating something they wanted. She'll believe it."

Asphalt looked at the puddles of red around him. "Then how are we gonna get all this blood off?"

Jay held out her paw. "Lick it. Once we've got most of it off we'll wash in the pond at the edge of the woods and roll in some garbage to get rid of her smell. Then you'll run home to BloodClan acting all scared and shout, 'Ice has been killed by alley cats!' I trust you can pull it off."

Asphalt looked at his red-stained paw. He had tasted blood during the torture session, but not really. He tasted it. It was warm, salty, metallic...and he found himself wanting more.

He wanted to kill.

* * *

><p>"But...I thought we warded off all the alley cats!" Scrap cried.<p>

The news of Ice's death had been announced to BloodClan. Asphalt had done a good job pretending he hadn't been the killer...he had acted so scared, Scrap didn't even suspect him. Right now, he was sitting back in his box, sniffing his paws to see if there was any trace of blood left. Nope. Jay had been right, as always- a few minutes of licking, a wash in the pond, and some rolling in garbage did the trick. Raven was sitting in the box now, too...and she didn't look happy.

"Mother, where's Father?" Jay asked, putting her paws on her mother's tail. "I thought he was going to bring back some chicken for us."

Raven removed her tail from Jay's paws, tapping her lightly on the head. "Don't be rude," she mewed. "Your father's just come back from a battle. You shouldn't always expect gifts from him."

Jay growled in disappointment, then joined Asphalt at the side of the box. "How's Scrap?" she whispered.

Asphalt watched the scene below: Scrap sobbing at her loss, and Snook, her mate, trying to calm her down. Cement, their remaining kit, stood solidly in the corner, looking annoyed. "She's pretty upset. But she'll get over it."

Viper, a warrior, padded over to Scrap's box. "Scrap!" he hissed. "Please, quiet down. Scorn has heard of your loss and has promised you a gift."

Jay hissed silently. "Stupid Viper," she muttered. "I hate him."

Asphalt scooted closer to her. "Why? Because he gave the mouse to Ice instead of you?"

Jay shook her head vigorously. "No. Because he's a coward. He obviously tags along with Father just to get respect." She licked her paw in frustration. "Really? Father gives a crying queen a gift and doesn't get anything for his own kits?"

At the doorway, a long, thin shadow appeared, flashing reinforced claws. "Viper, Viper. You've spoiled my message. It's 'gift_s_,' not 'gift'."

Heads turned. Claws sheathed. Every cat in the room dipped their heads, with the exception of the kits, who scampered under their mothers. Scorn, concealed by the wall, revealed himself- holding a tiny ball of fur in his teeth. He turned to the side, beckoning someone with his tail. Sulfur, the Clan deputy, appeared with two more tiny balls of fur.

Scrap lifted her head. "You're back from the battle, Scorn," she mewed politely, not a hint of sadness in her voice. "I congratulate you for winning."

Scorn chuckled, putting down the tiny furball. "Yes, dear Scrap," he meowed. "It seems your kit got a bit scratched up, didn't she? Pity. I was wondering if her horrific attitude would ever improve."

Asphalt saw Scrap's eyes crinkle. Only Scorn could comment on Ice's death like that and get away with it. He looked back on killing her with Jay. Scorn hadn't liked Ice. He had probably been planning to get rid of her himself. He and Jay had just done their father a favor.

_We really killed someone_, he thought darkly. _I used to like Ice_. _Why did I go along with killing her so easily_?

He paused. _Because it's for the good of BloodClan, that's why. We have no room for weaklings. _

Scorn picked up the white furball again and padded down the slope to the second platform. He set the furball into the nest, and waited while Sulfur set down the second two. The furballs unfurled, showing tiny paws.

"Kits!" Scrap gasped. She looked at her leader gratefully. "Where did you get them?"

Scorn watched the kits fidgeting around in the nest. "They're forest kits," he mewed, arousing gasps from the whole room. "I know it may seem strange that I have recruited ThunderClan kits, but it's the least we can do to show them that we're stronger than they are. They were birthed in the fire last night, and they survived the smoke somehow. The white kit also has..."

Scrap yelped. She had caught sight of Ember's discolored eyes. "They're on fire!" she spat. "What's wrong with her?"

Scorn growled at Scrap. "Don't interrupt me. That's Ember. Her eyes, as well as their survival in the smoke, have caused me to think that it's a sign. That I should keep them, and that they shall be trained by me...the Master of Flames."

Asphalt's ears perked. "Training?" he whispered. "But...Father's already training us!"

Jay pushed him with her shoulder. "Keep quiet," she mewed. "They'll hear us."

Scorn rested his tail on the tortoiseshell kit's head. "This is Mist. And the black-and-white one is Night. Since you have lost your kit I am presenting you with three new ones. It will be hard work, but I don't expect any complaints. You still have plenty of milk. Nurture these kits well, because I want them to grow up to be powerful warriors."

Asphalt put his paws over the edge of the box. His heart lurched. "Did Father ever say that about us, Mother?" he mewed, turning around to face Raven. Raven had gone rigid, her face a mask of raw anger. Asphalt had no idea why this was. But, nonetheless, it terrified him. His mother had always been fierce, but not like this.

"He certainly didn't," Raven snarled between gritted teeth. With a blink, she leapt out of her box and left the room.

He turned to Jay. She looked angry, too. He brushed her with his tail. "What's wrong, Jay?"

The black she-kit spat, her blue eyes merely lines. "Those kits," she mewed, her voice tinged with desolation. "They've stolen our father! Father's never paid attention to any kits before. And he certainly wouldn't care who their milk mother was! Usually he just tosses newly-recruited kits into the queen's den and lets whoever wants them take them!"

Asphalt shrunk away from his sister. "But...these kits are a sign. He said so."

Jay replied by smacking his ear. "Look! He's coming this way!" She ducked, pretending to be cleaning her paws. "We can't let him know we were watching!"

Asphalt scrambled over to his sister, pressing to her side. He felt their father loom over them. "Where's your mother?" he snarled.

Jay straightened up, meeting her father's gaze steadily. "Oh, she left. She seemed angry."

Scorn thought this over, his eyes hard as flint. "Hmm," he murmured.

Jay struggled to say something. "Oh," she mewed, smiling weakly. "I caught a mouse today, father. Half as big as I am!"

Scorn sighed. "Good. Now, stay here, both of you...I have to go look for Raven." He stalked off, taking one last look at the threesome of furballs he had dropped off in Scrap's nest.

Asphalt looked at Jay, frightened by what he would see. He was shocked to see tears at the corners of Jay's eyes. He had never seen Jay sad before, much less teary.

"Did you see that?" she growled. "He didn't even pay attention to me. He always at least purrs when I tell him I've accomplished something. He barely even looked at us." She furiously wiped at her eyes, refusing to let tears spill. She glared at the threesome of kits suckling in Scrap's nest. "Those kits are asking for it. I used to be Father's favorite, and they're trying to take over."

Disobeying her father's orders, she clambered out of the nest and skulked out the door. Asphalt watched her go, nervous at what might occur. He didn't know it, but it was the start of an invisible war.

**R&R. Wow, that was a long chapter, wasn't it?**

Question and Answer Time:

**1. Eew, that chapter was so long! Why was it so long? *falls asleep***

**Because I like to write. **

**2. How come the BloodClan cats know what cardboard is, and stuff? **

**Because they've been living in the Twolegplace for three generations. They know their surroundings. **

**3. Why do they know what wolves are?  
>...I honestly don't know. I just thought it was a good comparison. <strong>

**4. Eew, that bloody scene was so bloody! *dies***

**Well, I warned you in the beginning! This fic is rated T, too, you know.**

**5. Was it really necessary for Jay to kill Ice?  
>Well, yeah, it's BloodClan. They can kill for no reason if they want to. (Plus, her Mary-Sueness was starting to annoy me, so I HAD to kill her off!) <strong>

**6. Why's Raven mad again? **

**Because. She loves her kits, and her mate is interested in three forest hairballs he discovered. **

**7. When Asphalt said, "there's no room for weaklings in BloodClan", isn't he sort of a weakling himself? **

**...Yes. But Ice is weak**_**er**_**. Plus, they didn't invent the word "hypocrite" for nothing. **

**8. When you were writing the bloody scene, did you know what you were doing? Because some of that stuff seems unrealistic. **

**Well, no. I don't know much about the art of killing or torturing, since I've never done it myself. But it was bloody, so that's what counts, right? **

**9. Why the HECK did you write this chapter? It's basically a side story about Scorn's kits!  
>Well, not really. Here was the original plan: I was going to make Scorn's kits kill Scrap's kit so our threesome of stolen kits could have a milk mother. But I guess I got carried away. But there ain't no way I'm going back and revising it. :D<strong>

**See you next time! And let's pray the next chapter won't be so long!**


	6. Recovery

**I'm kind of tired from the last chapter, so this one might be short. It depends on how things turn out. To confirm things, I've decided to do a chapter on ThunderClan, even though I said I probably wouldn't. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors. If I did, Tawnypelt wouldn't be such a WUSS and she would've been able to put up with ThunderClan's non-trusting inhabitants. **

CHAPTER SIX  
><span>Recovery<span>

Reedtail was still sitting in the medicine den.

How many days had it been? He pondered drowsily. It had only been two, but both of them had stretched out like a cat basking in the sunlight. He still felt weak, and jittery, and his limbs were quite stiff...but the pain in his head had softened to a dull ache. He also had a mild burn on his tail that stung and felt dry and cracked, but it wasn't enough to keep him from his warrior duties. There was much to do in ThunderClan. Oakstar was still getting over the gash on his flank, and at the same time trying to organize a makeshift camp since their old one was under BloodClan's control. It was a shock to everyone that BloodClan had succeeded in driving them out, but Oakstar wasn't sure if the other Clans knew yet. It was still another half-moon until the Gathering, so the chance was subtle. And Oakstar refused to let any patrols check ThunderClan's camp, in fear that a warrior might be killed.

Reedtail's throat was hoarse, but he didn't find it difficult to breathe. In fact, he was sure that if the tragedies that had occured in the past few days hadn't happened, Pearlnose would have let him out by now. He knew the real reason she was so worried about him: the loss of his kits.

It had been a harsh blow. Once things were sorted out, they decided that the cat who had served the painful whack to Reedtail's head was the perpetrator. Reedtail was filled with anxiety as he thought of where his kits might be: locked up somewhere, in the cold, dark crevices of BloodClan territory. It made him feel sick inside. The Twolegs' land was no place for three newborn kits whose veins were thick with warrior blood, who were supposed to be curled up in their mother's belly, suckling milk. They would never be able to grow up in a home where they were loved, nurtured, and praised. They would forever breathe the air of the tangy, bitter Twolegplace, instead of fresh, earthy forest air.

Depression had completely knocked Reedtail off his paws. Pearlnose, being intelligent in the ways of healing and medicine, knew that Reedtail wouldn't be able to perform his deputy duties properly. Marblepelt, a senior warrior, had taken his place temporarily. Reedtail, as much as he hated to admit it, thought Marblepelt was doing a terrific job. She wasn't bossy or sharp and she showered every cat with encouragement. Reedtail wondered if Marblepelt would become deputy forever.

His kits' disappearance wasn't the only thing bothering Reedtail. It seemed nobody would let him see Gingerflower. He would struggle and protest, but Pearlnose wouldn't let him budge. She insisted that he was sick and needed to rest, even though his condition was getting much better. He was sure that the finicky medicine cat was hiding something from him, and in the pit of his belly he knew it was about Gingerflower. Gingerflower was deathly sick, and he knew that nobody in ThunderClan thought he was strong enough to deal with it.

Reedtail sat up, his joints cracking. His stomach rolled on the dry mouse he'd eaten earlier that day, the clumps of stringy meat making him regret he'd eaten at all. He made a decision: he wasn't going to put up with everybody's pathetic lies anymore. Pearlnose was being ridiculous. He wasn't going to let anybody stop him from seeing his mate. They didn't understand the love he felt for her.

Wobbling on his dehyderated pads, he felt how tight his muscles were. He scrunched up his nose. Being in the medicine den was probably worse for his health than hard work was. He was so stiff, he could barely move!

After a brief moment to let his muscles relax, he poked his nose out the den. Pearlnose was talking to Oakstar, her meows hushed. He studied the gash on his leader's side, and winced. It was half a tail-length long, and it was red and sticky with drying blood. He could tell that Oakstar was uncomfortable. The pale tabby leader had a mate and kits of his own- Tulipfur, Moonkit, and Stonekit. Surely the leader loved them very much, and surely he understood Reedtail's pain. Why wouldn't Oakstar let him see Gingerflower?

Reedtail ducked into the bushes, the thorns pressing against his fur. In two days, he had collected a very important bit of information- whenever Pearlnose left the den, she would venture over to the far side of the clearing to a large, hollow tree. A few nervous-looking cats often crowded her. She would peek in, her tail flicking hopefully, and always came out sporting a look of fear. She would then say something to Oakstar, then slip into the woods and bring back a wide variation of herbs. He just knew Gingerflower was in there. He couldn't see any other cats absent from sight.

He decided to stay in the bushes and observe Pearlnose's actions from a distance. If he confronted her, she would most likely bustle him back into the medicine den and give him a quick scolding- probably something about how she knew exactly what she was doing when she said he needed to rest, and that's what he had to do. Pearlnose's expression faltered as she spoke to Oakstar, her blue eyes circular, and she looked towards the hollowed-out tree. Reedtail swore he could see the tip of a tortoiseshell tail sticking out.

Pearlnose turned her attention back to Oakstar, and nosed a sticky bunch of cobwebs to him. She prodded his wound lightly with her tail, and then applied the cobwebs to it. She nodded at him crisply, then turned tail and padded towards the tree. Reedtail had the temptation to follow her, but he resisted it. He instead followed her with his eyes.

Observing closely, he could only see Pearlnose's bushy white tail. It was still for a moment, hanging in midair like a fluffy white snake, and then, it straightened. He heard mews coming from the tree. Reedtail became immediately wary. He was out of the bush before Pearlnose had withdrawn from the tree's empty trunk.

Oakstar heard the racket of the leaves and spotted Reedtail's black-and-white fur with surprise. The pale leader moved in front of Reedtail's swiftly moving paws, flinching as he was stabbed by a searing agony in his side. Reedtail skidded to a stop, glaring at his leader. Oakstar met his gaze, although he had only seen Reedtail so serious once before: when he was searching for his mate in the BloodClan battle.

"Let me see Gingerflower," he mewed firmly. "I know that's where you've been hiding her. You won't let me see her because you're afraid of me seeing her so ill."

Oakstar swallowed. He made no move to stop Reedtail as he pushed forward, his paws crunching over leaves scattering the ground. H. Pearlnose a few tail-lengths away from the hollowed-out tree. Her blue eyes were glassy.

Reedtail's heart dropped into his stomach. "What's happened to Gingerflower?"

Pearlnose shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she mewed softly.

**R&R. Short chapter, but it's going to happen sometimes. Instead of Q&A, I have character profiles instead!**

**Scorn- he's evil...but yeah, I guess what sets him apart from Scourge is that he's more organized. And he thinks before he does things. He's smart, and easily controls things. And, as written, he has a very miniscule soft spot that reacts at random times. **

**Sulfur- Sulfur was named after fire, or an element that is related to fire, purposely. He is a very general cat who doesn't question his leader, and his trust in Scorn is what makes him a good deputy. He has a big imagination, and is sometimes very paranoid. He's known Scorn since he was a little kit, and they are good friends. Scorn tends to be more patient with Sulfur than with other cats, so when he yells at him, his temper cools down quickly. **

**Viper- I picked Viper out as a secondary companion to Scorn, since one seemed like too little. I wanted to make Sulfur the more likable of the pair, so Viper is the less likable one. Viper is an overly confident tom who I compare to one of those cheesy, stupid villains in kid's shows that give a bad reputation to adults. He sort of expects to be promoted if he sticks with Scorn long enough, but it's apparent Sulfur isn't going to step down from being deputy any time soon. This angers Viper and he often tries to impress Scorn in pitiful ways. Yes, he IS a coward, so he usually picks on cats smaller than him. And yet he's considered one of the best warriors...probably a thing of luck. **

**Jay- while she seems creepy, she's also very sensitive. She is one smart cookie, at least for her age, taking after Scorn. She loves blood, as all BloodClan cats should, and targets Asphalt a lot. She does hurt him constantly, but deep down she cares for her brother and doesn't try to overdo her frequent claw-sharpenings on him. She's merciless, but she understands the overall concept of life but chooses not to consider it. She kills off any cat who appears weak to her, and she admires her father greatly. The two are very close, and in the recent episode when he ignored her, she was very upset. So don't judge her for being a psychopath...she has feelings too. **

**Asphalt- I think Asphalt is just plain unlucky to have ended up in BloodClan. He could be a great forest warrior. Asphalt is timid and curious, and he likes to explore and try stuff out. He understands that in BloodClan, it's either you or the enemy, but he doesn't really get it. Asphalt's the kind of cat who would just like to relax and not have to worry about anything. He's not a coward, like Viper, but he knows that if he pushes his sister to a certain point he gets clawed whether he likes it or not. So he just tries to stay away from danger and go about his own way. But since he is the son of Scorn, he does have a love of blood he hasn't quite discovered yet. **

**Reedtail- Reedtail is made to be a very stubborn, determined character, but he's also loving and considerate. He's sometimes headstrong to a point where it sometimes makes him seem emotional or forceful, which wrongly emphasizes the negative side of his personality. He's protective and dedicated and knows the importance of his duties, but can get distracted from them if there is an occurance having to do with those he loves. He often puts too much thought into things, and he will make a big deal out of anything. He never overlooks any matter. He believes every cat has a good heart. **

**Gingerflower- Being a minor character, there isn't much to reveal about her personality. Gingerflower is very soft and has a frail heart, being easily emotionally hurt. She tends to be naive and sometimes puts too much trust into matters she doesn't know much about, and then is despaired when they turn on her. That's why she needs a strong, brave, determined cat like Reedtail as her mate. **

**Ember- I will reveal her personality later. For now, she is the main character as she was the kit blessed with the "sign" that urged Scorn to keep she and the other two. Un-Mary-Suelike, she might possess some of her father's qualities. **

**Night- I will reveal her personality later. For now, she is one of the main characters. I think I will bestow a comical, unusual personality upon Night, as it fits her. **

**Mist- I will reveal her personality later. For now, she is one of the main characters. She will probably appear serious, haughty, or noble. A mysterious cat. **

**Ice- the Mary Sue of our story. I killed her early, so don't get angry, 'kay? But her story is not over here...it will continue to weave the story of our main character kitties. **

**Cement- a character who will plop himself rudely into the middle of our story. Very sarcastic and short-tempered, Cement holds a promising future. **

**Scrap- an overprotective mother who is probably going to plop HERself rudely into the middle of our story, too. **

**Bye-bye for now. Sorry for the chapter's shortness.**


	7. Leader of the Kits

**Quick overview. (I don't mention all the inhabitants, only the new/significant ones.)**

BLOODCLAN

Leader- Scorn- tall black tom with eerie yellow eyes, called "Master of Flames"

Deputy- Sulfur- scraggly dark gray tom with a white muzzle and paws

Healer- Ashes- pale gray she-cat with crooked whiskers

WARRIORS

Viper- black tom with long front fangs and green eyes

Raven- sleek white she-cat with white eye spot

Panther- sleek black tom, new warrior

Chalk-dusty-looking brown tom, new warrior

Hunter- calico tom, new warrior

Sleet- sleek white she-cat (originally named Mist, had to rename because of a repeated use)

APPRENTICES

Cement- gray tom

Jay- black she-cat with white chest and belly and blue eyes

Asphalt- black tom with amber eyes

Cliff- reddish tom

Rill- tortoiseshell she-cat

Blood- dark ginger tom

QUEENS

Scrap- white-and-black she-cat with blue eyes (mother to Snook's kits- Ember, a white she-cat with fire-colored eyes, Mist, a gray-and-gold tortoiseshell, and Night, a black-and-white she-cat)

Willow- fluffy pale-gray she-cat with yellow eyes (mother to Mud's kits- Cardinal, a brownish-red tom, and Sear, a gray she-cat with one black ear)

**Overview is over. **

CHAPTER SEVEN  
><span>Leader of the Kits<span>

Ember stared at the box above her. She had been staring at it for a long while now. It was damp with age and had a thin film of gray mildew growing on the edges, but she knew it had a great significance. She had never been allowed up there; it was off limits to lower-ranked cats, especially kits like herself. She hadn't seen kits there for moons now, but still it sat there, a reserved spot for whoever would inhabit it next. She knew it belonged to the leader's kits, Scorn, but they were apprentices now. Sometimes she would see a sleek black she-cat slink through the door and pad up there, removing stale bedding and replacing it with fresh moss and leaves. It seemed to close to her outstretched paw, and yet it was many tail-lengths away. She bet that if she was a fully-grown warrior she would be able to leap up there easily and see what went on up there in such a high place, but for now, she was stuck down here- in her box. Scrap's box.

Ember turned around to face her mother. Her mother wasn't necessarily a pretty creature- much as it pained her to think it- and while she was dozing, she looked especially ragged. A coarse piece of meat was pasted to her jaw, and every so often Scrap would subconciously flick her tongue at it in a weak attempt to scrape it off, failing every time. Ember winced. She had looked in a puddle before, and she didn't look like her mother, which was sort of a relief. Her white fur just didn't match Scrap's faded grayish-white one, splattered with its ebony splotches. Even Night, Ember's sister, who shared Scrap's coat color, didn't quite resemble the unsightly queen. Ember wondered where Mist got her dappled tortoiseshell coat. Her father Snook certainly didn't have one.

Thinking about her reflection, Ember sniffed and rubbed at her nose. Her nose had always puzzled her. While other cats had theirs straight and triangular, hers tilted deftly sideways, and was a little bit misshapen so it didn't look much like a triangle at all. It was a rosy pink, signifying health, but that was about the only good thing about it. At least her sisters shared similiar problems- Mist had slightly crooked limbs that stimulated a barely noticeable limp when she walked, and Night had a stiff paw that didn't work, so she dragged it everywhere. Night had gotten used to it, though, and now she walked decently.

In the midst of her thoughts, Ember felt a tail brush her shoulder. Turning abruptly to see who it was, she faced Night's black-and-white fur. Her sister's eyes were shining brightly, a comical glint in her blue irises. Ember knew that whenever her sister wore this expression, she was about to get into mischief.

"Ember!" Night mewed, her whiskers shining silver in the daylight pouring into the nursery. "Have you seen Willow's newborn kits yet? They look completely gross!"

Ember half smiled. Night said this as if it were the most exciting thing in the world. Gross, nearly furless, newborn kits...such a topic of conversation! "What are their names?"

Night shrugged, her tail twirling back and forth distractingly. "Dunno. But we can go find out...Willow probably won't care." Her sister didn't wait for an answer, whipping around and climbing out of the box like a squirrel exploring for nuts. The good thing was, her sister had found a way to occupy herself happily- the bad thing was, Willow probably _would_ care. The grouchy, defensive queen would growl at an ant that came within five tail-lengths of her kits.

Nonetheless, Ember followed in hot pursuit. There wasn't anything interesting to do in Scrap's box anyway, and if Night was going to get in trouble, she was going to get in trouble with her.

Willow's box laid neatly at the bottom platform, since she was the newest queen in the nursery. As Ember followed Night's quick, mincing pawsteps, she caught a glimpse of two plump objects tucked into Willow's belly. They weren't very appealing, and Ember wondered why new kit life was such a big deal. New kits were a pain, always squealing! Ember couldn't imagine ever having been that ugly and small. But she was still interested in them, how they suckled so much milk when they were so puny. She was already eating soft meats, and she would be an apprentice in about two moons or so. She always marveled at how quickly BloodClan apprentices gained skill. She had just seen them battling full-grown warriors the other day, and one tom had even won the battle!

Just at the edge of the middle platform, Night had skewed to the side to avoid Willow's keen eyes. Ember saw where she was headed- a rocky space clamped to the wall hovering above Willow's nest, but was off to the side so they got a hind view. Looking up at the concrete balcony, she saw Mist's tortoiseshell fur. Mist wasn't as daring as Night was, but she was also timid, calm, and collective. She was probably the most sensible of the three, but even she liked to have a little bit of fun every once in a while. She bared her teeth at Ember from her height, her amber eyes twinkling with glee. Ember focused on Night, who was scrabbling at the wall furiously with her claws. (Night sometimes took time to realize certain things). A few moments later, she took a few steps back, waggled her rear, and leapt up to the rock platform, bounding on the wall once. The rocky clamp was the perfect height, just low enough for a small kit to leap up and make it.

Ember joined them above the ground, her paw pads grating on the wall. Night nudged her playfully, almost knocking her off. "It's great up here, isn't it? I discovered it yesterday. It's great for spying on cats. I was up here when everybody was eating and I saw Cement bossing Asphalt around."

Mist blinked in surprise. "Weird. Doesn't Cement know Asphalt is Scorn's kit?"

Night nodded vigorously. "He does, but he doesn't care. Asphalt's kind of cowardly, don't you think? Definitely more cowardly than..._Jay_." The black-and-white she-kit shuddered.

Ember growled softly. Jay was Scorn's daughter, and she might as well be Scorn himself. She was his copy, in young she-cat form. Pretty much everybody stayed out of her way, including the warriors. She was, as everyone knew, slowly tearing her way to leadership. For some reason, the sleek black kit seemed to especially despise Ember and her sisters, forever glaring at them and threatening to get rid of them. Ember was rightfully scared of her- the apprentice could easily kill her. From somewhere, Jay had collected small dog's teeth to reinforce her claws with.

Ember tried to look into the High-Platform box. That's where Asphalt and Jay had once stayed as kits. Now, it was filled with bedding that had no cats to hold. Ember was disappointed...she had expected some great treasure or stash to be stored in the box, and yet it appeared normal. But she could feel, deep inside her, that the box had great importance.

"Anyway," Night mewed, interrupting her thoughts, "I can't really see the kits from here. Willow is curled around them so tightly, all I can see is their tails!" 

Mist sighed. "Well, that's it, then. Going up to Willow isn't a choice; she'd claw us to shreds. Now, let's go find something else to do." There was an edge to Mist's voice, as she knew that Night would protest.

Night licked her stiff paw curtly, pressing her flank against Mist's. "Don't worry, Mist, I'll avoid Willow's claws," she mewed humorously. "I have an idea. From this distance, I'll be able to land right next to the nest so I can get a good look at the kits before Willow slashes me. Even if she does get me, it won't hurt to have a few big scars, would it?" Her blue eyes glowed with an invincible optimistic aura.

Mist flattened her ears. "I don't know, Night- you could hurt yourself. And plus, what if you land on the kits? Willow will maul you!"

Ember flicked Night's flank. "Do whatever you want. But I'm warning you, you'll probably get hurt." A tinge of worry glittered in Ember's colorful eyes.

Night ignored them both. "Shh!" she mewed, crouching low to the ground. "You're disturbing my concentration. I have to make a perfect landing to pull this off!" Swinging her shoulders from side to side, she pounced, her hind legs springing up like coils, launching her across the room straight into the center of Willow's nest.

"I can't look." Mist covered her eyes, but Ember could smell her excitement.

Night landed with all four paws extended, right on Willow's swollen belly. Willow yelped, turning the heads of every cat in the room. The trauma caused Night to roll off Willow's back onto the kits. The chubby, warm bodies writhed under her weight.

"Eew. Look at them," Night mewed, wrinkling her nose. "They're like little grubs."

"Get off!" Willow spat, and batted Night away. The black-splotched she-kit went tumbling, stopping as she rammed into the edge of the middle platform. Ember and Mist gasped in unison, but Night immediately scrambled up and darted away, diving into the safety of Scrap's nest.

"My kits!" Willow exclaimed, licking each furry kitten over and over. She turned to where Night's eyes peeked over the edge of the box, her own eyes full of fury.

"How dare you hurt my kits?" she snarled. "You could have killed them!"

Ember became angered. Did she not realize Night was a kit herself? She leapt down and stood in front of Willow, meeting her furious gaze.

"She didn't kill them, though," Ember mewed, summing up all her courage. "And who says they're hurt? She was only on them for a heartbeat. And it's your fault for yelping so loudly and making Night fall off!"

Mist watched from above. This is what usually happened when anyone that Ember was close to was threatened in any way. She watched Willow's face morph into shock.

"She didn't mean to," Ember went on, her claws unsheathing and sheathing. "She only wanted to see what your kits looked like. You've been curling around them so tightly lately, no one can see them. I doubt they can even breathe!"

Willow blinked, her pale gray fur regaining its flatness. Being confronted by a bumbling kit wasn't something that happened to her every day. Who was this white kit who tried her patience, who dared to speak to her so disrespectfully? "Shut up, kit," Willow growled, caressing her kits with her tail. "You don't know what you're mewing about." 

Scrap, who had been napping through the whole thing, woke up as the commotion reached her ears. Her eyes met Night's. The small kit's side had a gash on it that was dripping blood on the moss. Scrap sat up, startled at the sight of her kit injured. "What happened?"

Night shook her head. "Willow!" she squeaked. She pointed her tail feebly towards the queen, who was glowering at Ember. Mist had dropped from the stone balcony, joining her sister's side, and was quivering so that her tail looked like a branch on a windy night.

Willow had unsheathed her claws- the long, overgrown claws that all BloodClan cats possessed. "I'll kill you all by my own paw," Willow snarled. "For damaging my kits, and for being so rude. Then maybe you'll be more careful!" Her paw rose, and Ember knew they wouldn't be able to get away in time to evade the blow.

But instead of the stinging sharpness of claws, she heard a calm voice behind her. "Sheathe your claws, Willow."

It was Scrap.

The pale gray queen scoffed at the sight of Scrap. "Well, good morning," Willow mewed dryly. "I see you've woken from your little nap. I nearly killed your kits. How was _your_ day?"

Scrap laughed, her voice eerily level. She stared into Willow's eyes seriously. "Very well, Willow, but I see you've forgotten that I'm a higher rank than you." She looped her tail around her three kits, drawing them toward her. "I see you've also forgotten that these are the special kits that Scorn is going to train- which was a big mistake." Her voice had clipped into a low growl.

Willow's eyes went wide. She looked at Ember, shaking at the sight of her multicolored eyes. "O-oh no," she stuttered. "I forgot...I didn't know...please forgive me, Scrap!" She bowed her head in shame.

Scrap huffed, blowing air through her nostrils. "I forgive you, but only because you're an idiot," Scrap mewed. Ember looked at her mother. Before, she had seemed lazy and scraggly. Now, she was a leader- a slim, beautiful queen rising above all, her ears pricked, her nose pointed upwards disdainfully. "You're a new mother who knows nothing about the way of kits."

Willow, bewildered, pushed her muzzle into the corner of her box and let her kits nurse in silence. Scrap turned away, herding her three kits into her box, and began licking Night's wound.

Ember had never seen her mother that way before. Now, she saw her in a whole new light. She put her paws on her mother's shoulders, staring at one half of her face.

"Mother," Ember started. "What do you mean, Scorn is going to train us?" Her tail-tip wriggled as she asked. "And what do you mean, 'special kits'?"

Scrap stopped licking and sighed heavily. "It's really nothing, Ember," she mewed, her voice barely audible. Ember sensed sadness in it.

Night, although she was getting a wound licked, squealed stubbornly. "Tell us! Tell us!" she demanded, flapping her front paws like wings. "Tell us, Mother!"

Scrap flicked her ear in annoyance. "Alright, I'll tell you. But don't go on about it." She licked the sides of her mouth decisively. "You were picked as three kits to be trained by Scorn himself. He picked you because of your eyes, Ember."

Ember squirmed. There wasn't a puddle nearby, so she couldn't look at her eyes, as much as she wanted to. Of course she had seen them a billion times, but she thought if she looked at them this very moment they would look different than usual. "My eyes?"

Scrap nodded, and licked Night's wound again. "Yes, your eyes. He thought they looked like fire, and he thought this was a sign that he should train you. Once the time comes, you won't be trained by warriors, but by the leader." She shrugged. "That's the way it is."

Night scowled. "Aww. No fair. How come Ember gets to have the fire eyes?" She twisted in her mother's grasp to look at them. "Your eyes are cool, Ember. I wish I had fire eyes! Mother, why can't I have fire eyes?"

Scrap had to grin at that. "I don't quite know, little one. Maybe you'll find out one day. But you're all equally special, so don't fret about that." Scrap took a bit of clean moss from the box and pressed it onto Night's wound, the moisture squeezing into the cut. "It was just a small cut, Night. The bleeding has stopped, so you three can run along now." She tipped Ember gently off her back. "Don't get into any more trouble, okay?"

Night nodded. "We won't."

It was the truth. Ember had had enough for one morning. Plus, she had a lot on her mind now. Training with the leader? Special kits? Fire eyes? Ember had no idea that Scorn was going to be her mentor! She trembled with excitement on the inside. She wouldn't say it out loud (Night might), but knowing this made her feel extremely essential.

Outside, it was hot and bright. It stank of old meat, garbage, and Twoleg contraptions. But it was a smell that Ember had known her whole life, and it was comforting, even though it was foul. Immediately she spotted a gray-black cat with a twitchy tail, sitting next to a golden she-cat.

She knew who it was, and Night blurted out his name before she could. "Sulfur!"

Sulfur's head turned, his dark amber eyes warm. "Hello, kits," he mewed as they raced towards him. "How are you today?"

Ember pricked her ears. "Fine, thanks," she mewed. "Except we got in a fight with Willow, and Night got her side scratched." She turned her head towards the thin red line on Night's flank. Sulfur twitched his whiskers in half amusement, half concern.

"Yes, you must be careful around Willow," he chuckled heartily. "She's pretty protective of her kits. I would be protective of my kits, but I want them to grow up doing what they want to do...exploring and discovering new things." He touched his tail-tip to the golden she-cat's flank. Flower had been his mate for a while, but it was only recently that she had her kitting.

"Oh, and here's a little treat." Sulfur nosed a hunk of chicken towards them. The kits gasped with delight, then pounced on it and began ripping into its tender meat.

Once they finished, Mist licked the chicken grease off her chops. "Thank you, Sulfur!"

The gray-black tom licked their foreheads. "You're very welcome, Mist." He widened his eyes as if he were about to say something very important. "By the way, kits. I have a surprise for you. Scorn..."

"...is going to be the one to train us?" Night finished.

Sulfur blinked. "How did you know?"

Night sighed, digging her stiff paw into the dirt. "Just earlier we found out," she mewed. "Scrap told us."

Sulfur looked confused. Ember broke in. "When we were fighting with Willow, Scrap had to rescue us by reminding her we were the 'special kits'," she explained. "So of course we asked why she called us that. And she just _had_ to tell us...I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight if she hadn't!"

Sulfur's eyes sparkled. "You'll be great warriors if you're trained by him," he mewed. "Scorn knows a lot. As soon as your apprentice days are over, you'll be a better fighter than me!"

Mist shook her head. "But you're the best fighter ever!"

Sulfur stood up. "We'll see. Right now, I have to go back to the nursery with Flower...I want to see how my kits are coming along." He waved them goodbye with his tail, then walked off. Flower looked over her shoulder. "Bye, kits. Don't get into any trouble!"

Night _hrr_ed. "Why do all mothers say that to us?" she mewed. Ember and Mist laughed.

Pawsteps sounded ahead of them. "I know...so hilarious, right?"

Ember jumped, spinning around instinctively. Merely a shadow in the sunlight, a thin dark cat stood in the alleyway. Stepping out of the light, Ember recognized the she-cat. _Jay_. She had a reputation for popping up out of nowhere. Ember was frightened. Alone in an alleyway like this, who knew what Jay could do?

Jay slipped over, her paws skimming on the dirt. "Hello, kits," she hissed, her voice more air than tone. "Training been well?" She fixed her eyes on Night's cut. The black-splotched she-kit shrank away, ducking behind Mist.

Ember tried to think of a retort. "Umm, well," she mewed, shuffling her paws. "We're getting trained by Scorn when we're apprentices." Just saying it made her feel more confident.

Jay snickered, a throaty laugh that made Ember cringe. Then, without warning, she leaned in so close to Ember that she could smell the blood on her breath. It didn't smell like the blood of prey.

"You watch yourself, kit," Jay hissed. "Scorn is _my_ father, and don't think you're so great just because he's unlucky enough to have _you_ three on his paws. I'm his daughter, the next leader. I'm _already_ part leader. And once I'm fully leader, you will have to listen to me. And since I'm the leader's daughter, _you_ have to listen to me."

"We're just kits. You don't have the right to order _kits_ around," Night blurted.

Jay's cold gaze burned into Night. "I have every right. You can defy me all you want, but it will only end up with your blood spilling across the ground." She licked her claws, as if the scarlet fluid was actually there. "Everybody- even the warriors- knows what I am capable of. Haven't _you_ noticed?"

Of course they had noticed...every kit in the Clan had noticed! But when Jay said it herself, it sounded even more sinister. Everybody avoided Jay, but would avoiding work forever?

Jay turned tail. "I don't give mercy. I will kill you if I have to. If there's a little blood spillage along the way of my future, then so be it. I will do anything, fighting my way towards leadership..." Her voice trailed off as she melted away, becoming yet another shadow in the garbage-filled darkness.

The three kits were silent for a while. Mist's amber gaze was hard as flint.

"What does she want with us?" she whispered, her mews floating in the pungent breeze. "It's as if she thinks we're a danger to her later leadership. How could any of us possibly be a leader?"

Ember was still intent on the area where Jay had chained herself in with the blackness, becoming one of the shadows. "It's because Scorn is training us. She's afraid he'll make one of us leader."

Night snorted. She padded in front of her sisters, spitting wildly after Jay. "She thinks she's all-powerful! Just wait 'til Scorn trains us. I'll rip her paw from paw!" She scraped at the ground with her paw, her claws making sifty marks in the dirt. "Who does she think she is, anyway? Our leader? She's not leader yet...so why does she act so high and mighty?"

Ember pressed her shoulder to Night's. "You'd better not mess with her, Night," Ember murmured. "She's very strong, much stronger than any of us. She's not joking...she could seriously hurt us. Kill us, even." Ember's eyes darkened. "I heard she killed someone once."

Mist nearly leapt out of her fur. She whirled around, her face tight with fear. "What?" she exclaimed. "Where did you hear that?" 

Ember felt suddenly uncomfortable. "Well, what did you expect? I always thought she was a cold-blooded killer myself. Anyway, I heard Blood and Cliff talking about it earlier. They said that when she was still a kit, she just plain slaughtered a she-cat out of nowhere. A killer kit. Tasted blood before she was even apprenticed...pure BloodClan blood, that's what she has in her body."

Night's blue eyes were round. "Of course, it's just a rumor," she mewed, for once not trying to exaggerate the matter.

Ember continued. "She covered up her tracks, they said. No one knows the truth, but some cats say they saw it in her eyes- the killer, the satisfaction that she had succeeded."

Mist didn't care if it was a rumor- she was absorbed in it. "Why is it such a big deal? Everyone in BloodClan is a killer. Even we will be."

Ember shook her head. "Mist...no kit has ever killed anyone in BloodClan. The only one that's ever done that before is Scourge."

They were silent at the mention of the legendary leader. Ember expected his spirit to jump out and attack them.

Night turned to Ember. "I've heard that Jay rumor before, but I didn't believe it was true." Her body tensed. "But I might as well tell you the bit I heard that will probably shock you."

The two she-kits huddled closer, eager to hear. "What is it?"

Night's expression was solemn in a way that Ember found ominous. "I heard the kit she killed was Ice."

Ember froze.

_Ice_.

Ice had been one of Scrap's kits. She was born in the same litter as Cement. Scrap had always grimaced when she told the story, saying she got hit by a monster, but she would say nothing more. Ember thought it was because it was too painful to speak of her deceased kit, but perhaps there was another reason- she was covering up the truth.

"From Scrap's first litter," Ember mewled, her voice rising in pitch a notch. "Our sister."

Silence greeted them once again, only this time the kit's heads were rushing with thoughts.

Mist squeaked. "What if...what if she hates all cats from Scrap's litter? What if we're next?" She yowled in fear.

Night batted her ear. "Mist, calm yourself!" she hissed, her tail fluffing up. "Every cat in BloodClan will hear you. In fact, Jay could be watching us this very moment. The least you could do is be quiet!"

Ember unsheathed her claws. "We have to do something about her, whether the rumor is fake or real," she mewed, her voice raw. "We have to stop taking orders from her, but stay safe at the same time."

Night hissed, glaring at her sister. "And how exactly do we do that?"

The fluffy white kit blinked her fire-colored eyes. "I don't exactly know. All I know is this- she can act like the leader of everybody she wants- the warriors, the apprentices, the queens. But no matter what, she will _not_ be leader of the kits."

**R&R.**

**Yay, I discovered the personalities of our main characters!**

**Ember- she's pretty much a miniature she-cat version of Reedtail. Go look at his personality description from the last chapter. **

**Mist- okay, so I ended up not making her serious, haughty, or noble. She's calm and collected and shy, like maybe Leafpool but a little bit more timid. She'll outgrow her timidness, though. **

**Night- adventurous, quirky, daring, and comical. And a little reckless. Which will probably get she, Mist and Ember into a lot of mischief. She'll outgrow her recklessness, though, and will probably be a little more sensible. **

**Questions & Answers: **

**1. So...did they find out that Jay killed Ice?  
>Not exactly. Some cats are suspicious of it, though. <strong>

**2. Do the three main kitties know that Scrap isn't their real mother?  
>Nope. But Ember does have that inner instinct that tells her something isn't right about Scrap. <strong>

**3. Is Flower a Mary Sue?  
>No, she just happens to have pretty golden fur. Anything wrong with that? AM I NOT ALLOWED TO MAKE MY CHARACTERS PRETTY?<strong>

**4. Did Gingerflower die?  
>.<strong>

**5. Why's Willow so overprotective of her kits?  
>Because Mud (her mate) is being ignorant, and all her emotions pour out as screechy, unappealing love for her fat little kits. <strong>

**6. I see how Scrap is part of the story...but how does Cement fit in? He just seems like a side character. **

**He'll fit in eventually. **

**See you next time on Stolen:Kits! I will tell you the other book titles of my series in the next chapter! (Because Stolen is a series. But each story has different characters than the one before it!)**


	8. How To Avoid A Jay's Talons

**I have received cat character suggestions, so there are some new characters. Thanks to wolfphase for suggesting the new cats. :3**

BLOODCLAN

Leader- Scorn- tall black tom with eerie yellow eyes, called "Master of Flames"

Deputy- Sulfur- scraggly dark gray tom with a white muzzle and paws

Healer- Ashes- pale gray she-cat with crooked whiskers

WARRIORS

Viper- black tom with long front fangs and green eyes

Raven- sleek white she-cat with white eye spot

Panther- sleek black tom, new warrior

Chalk-dusty-looking brown tom, new warrior

Hunter- calico tom, new warrior

Sleet- sleek white she-cat (originally named Mist, had to rename because of a repeated use)

APPRENTICES (this lists all of them, I eliminated some)

Cement- gray tom

Star- pure white she-cat with yellow eyes

Jay- black she-cat with white chest and belly and blue eyes

Asphalt- black tom with amber eyes

Cliff- reddish tom

Rill- tortoiseshell she-cat

Blood- dark ginger tom

**Fang- dark gray tom (all highlighted are the new recruits, and they are Viper and Whip's kits). **

**Fury- beautiful black she-cat with green eyes**

**Rage- very dark gray tom with blue eyes**

Hunter- calico tom

Finder- tortoiseshell she-cat

QUEENS

Scrap- white-and-black she-cat with blue eyes (mother to Snook's kits- Ember, a white she-cat with fire-colored eyes, Mist, a gray-and-gold tortoiseshell, and Night, a black-and-white she-cat)

Willow- fluffy pale-gray she-cat with yellow eyes (mother to Mud's kits- Cardinal, a brownish-red tom, and Sear, a gray she-cat with one black ear)

**Thanks again for the new characters. They made this chapter way easier to write- I thought I had too few kits! (Note: Fang, Fury, and Rage have just been crowned apprentices). **

EIGHT  
><span>How To Avoid A Jay's Talons<span>

Night hissed to Ember. "Do you really think it will work?" Her whiskers were taut.

Ember shouldered her playfully. "Of course it will work. They'll come; you'll see."

For the rest of the day yesterday after Jay had indirectly threatened to kill them, Ember, Night, and Mist had hatched a plan- a currently undeveloped plan, but it was still a good one. Jay couldn't be beaten by tiny kits like themselves, but perhaps with the help of the other apprentices and kits they would be able to beat her more easily. As Sulfur always said, "Many paws make for light work." Fighting Jay, even with the help of others, wouldn't be "light work", but definitely a more simple process than just taking on the leader's daughter alone.

Mist, her gray-gold fur flashing in the dim red light of the sunset, hunched her shoulders in disappointment. "You asked them to meet you here a long time ago, Ember," the tortoiseshell kit mewed. "If they haven't come yet, then they never will. We should just go back home to our nest. Alley cats could get us out here, you know."

Night had thought the plan would work, too, but she was impatient. The black-and-white kit wiggled around restlessly. She fixed her blue eyes on Ember, hissing. "Ember, seriously, let's go back to the nest! Scrap probably got us a nice turkey wing for dinner. I'm hungry, and if I don't get food soon, I'm going to be in a terrible mood."

Ember couldn't resist rolling her eyes. "You already are in a bad mood. And we can't lose hope. We invited Fury, and Finder...they're our best friends." Her tail-tip flipped to and fro fervently. "They can't back us down, and I know they wouldn't. They trust us; I trust them."

On cue, a pebble skidded down the alleyway, startling the three kits. Claws flashed like moonlight, and a slim black cat slid into view, followed closely by a smaller, bunchier tortoiseshell. Ember recognized Fury immediately, marred by tiny, kit-claw-sized marks and scars. She was a regular beauty, but no tom dared to confront her because of her fierce brother, Fang.

Finder's pink nose, which was often twitching when it scented anything, was dotted with redness. Ember blinked as she spotted a raw wound on Fury's side, ripping smartly across her shoulder and streaming blood. Her green eyes were thin with pain, but she did not limp.

Before Ember could ask, Fury spoke up. "Sorry we're late," she hissed, her voice miffed. "Fang was being stupid. He wouldn't let me go, so I had to fight him for it. Even worse, he sliced Finder on the nose. What a jerk!" She shook herself, dust puffing from her fur, and checked Finder's nose hastily. The two had been friends since they were newborn kits, and Ember could see worry flashing in the she-cat's emerald eyes.

Finder swiped her nose, smearing blood and turning it bright magenta. "It's okay, though," she mewed, her voice light as a whisker. "We got away, and that's the good thing. I hope we didn't hold anything up."

Ember nodded curtly, then looked around, her eyes round in the dark. "Hey...where are the others? I thought you were going to bring others." She looked at Fury, at the blood dripping down her side. She seemed confused, too.

"I invited Rage. He's been picking around in the dumpster lately. I guess he doesn't like being around the other apprentices." Her vision swooped upwards, scanning the massive piles of garbage for any moving shapes. "I could've sworn I heard his pawsteps behind us. Maybe he saw a mouse or something. He gets sidetracked with prey a lot."

Night cut in sharply. "There he is! He's coming this way!" Her voice was shrill, and Mist batted her on the cheek to quiet her. Sure enough, a dark gray coat matted with mud stumbled toward them, sporting two blue eyes.

Fury walked up to him, flinching as her shoulder wound stretched. "Rage!" she spat. "What took you so long? You're going to get us caught."

The tom scrambled up, shrugging. "I...um...fell into a mud hole. It took Star a while to get me out..." He gestured to the lithe white she-cat coming up behind him, her muzzle muddy and eyes flashing. She swiped a glistening pink tongue around her muzzle, mopping away the mess, and spit the mud out in front of her paws. She huffed ungratefully.

"An experience I would not willingly go through again," she mewed, her eyes vertical slits. "Your fur tastes all musty, Rage."

Finder sniffed the air, her sharp senses catching lingering traces of Rage's scent. She spat. "You _smell _musty too, Rage," she giggled. Rage turned his face away, his ears flicking in discomfort.

Night cleared her throat. "Alright, are we done conversing?" she mewed haughtily. "Because I thought we were here to fight." She unsheathed her claws, as if to further remind her piers of why they had gathered.

Fury lapped persistently at her wound, blood staining her crow-black fur, the thirst for battle surging in her eyes. She was obviously ready to scuffle even though she was wounded, so she was a vital team member. Quick-minded, with long claws- it made Ember feel better, knowing Fury was on their side. Ember looked around in speculation, measuring everybody else's abilities. Finder was small, and very sensible. She had a remarkable nose, which might help her during the battle. Rage, on the other paw, was klutzy...constantly tripping over his paws and tail, and pretty much every other minor obstacle that existed. His real skill was hunting, not battling. But at least he was an accurate pouncer, and had a nasty killing bite. If he was only brave enough to confront Jay, and he hit her throat in the right spot, he would be able to kill her. But killing Jay wasn't the plan- Scorn would probably kill _them_ if they dared slaughter one of his kits. So Ember hoped that if he did get to the killing-bite stage, he would only deliver a bite hard enough to kill a mouse and not a cat. They wanted _wounded_ Jay. Not dead Jay.

Night was a little erratic. Instead of plain ol' fighting, she would actually be excited beyond Ember's comprehension. Already a tricky kitten in everyday life, she loved outsmarting her opponents, and often did. It was Night's recklessness that worried Ember. Mist was shy, but she seemed to understand that sometimes fighting was necessary. While she avoided unreasonable fights, she would put heart into ones that had purpose. Mist knew as well as any other cat that Jay was dangerous, and couldn't be left alone. Her opened-up courage and strength were usually very impacting, especially since the enemy typically underestimated her power. Star was confident, but not overly so, and thought in a way Ember couldn't put together. Her plans appeared crazy, but often worked. She was also flexible and agile, her long tail increasing her balance and lowering the chance of her falling over. Ember remembered that Star had once been explaining a tactic to her that she didn't understand. Something about that if an enemy pounced on you, you should take the majority of the blow so that you can use the strength of their pounce to pin them, or something like that. Ember didn't get Star, but it was smart to go along with what she instructed them to do.

Six cats. Including her. So seven. Would it be enough to defeat Jay?

Ember squinted, trying to think of her own talents. She had fought before- many times. But she just seemed like a regular fighter.

_What was her talent_?

Finder's ears suddenly perked, turning gradually towards the giant trash piles. Her eyes were intently focused. "Uh-oh," she whispered. "I hear paws."

Star whisked herself over, her long white body puffing out like a cloud. She looked around, yellow eyes like two bright moons. "Rat's paws?" she mewed hopefully. "Oh, please...tell me they're rat's paws."

Finder shook her head, closing her eyes tightly, as if that would answer the question. "Cat paws," she mewed, her voice rising a notch. "And they're soft...it must be Jay."

Star hissed in disbelief. "How did she find us?" she mewed angrily. "She didn't even know we were coming. She probably always lurks out here at night. She always does this weird thing where she pops out of the darkness, and the moonlight somehow hits her fur perfectly so she's revealed slowly as she comes out..."

Night squeaked, staring horrified at a sliver of darkness wedged between two of the largest garbage mountains. "Oh, great Scourge," she mewed, gulping. "Jay...is that you?"

Ember turned to see. She nearly jumped out of her fur as she spotted two icy blue eyes peering out of the darkness.

Ember shut her eyes. "Rage. Tell me that's you, Rage."

Pawsteps sounded to her left. "No...I'm over here." His voice was edgy.

A snicker bounced off the walls of the alleyway, making Ember's fur prickle. "Of course it's me, you imbeciles," an ominous voice cackled. "I knew all along that you were planning to attack me. You think I have the ears of a mole?" Glossy, reflective fur shimmered in the cast of ivory light, leisurely revealing a tapered head and a trim, slender body. A stripe of gray light traveled along Jay's flank as she disclosed herself, her eyes two twinkling pebbles in the midst of her dark face. Ember looked at the two eyes and shivered...like there was a frosty chunk of ice sliding down her back. It came to her in a flash- they were replicas of Scourge's eyes. She had always heard the older cats who had lived in Scourge's time, describing how frigid they were. She had never seen Scourge in her life, and yet she knew. Jay was Scourge's descendant, and she had inherited his spirit.

She heard Mist scamper behind her. Rage looked stricken, as well as Night. She glanced apprehensively at Fury and Star, who had taken a few bold steps forward. Finder seemed stuck in place, her paws rooted to the ground. Ember felt the same way- paralyzed by Jay's freezing gaze.

Jay let slip a throaty laugh. "I heard you plotting earlier in the nursery. I was picking around. I've known all day about your little scheme. Doesn't that just crush you?" She laughed once more, tilting her claws so every cat could see. Ember swallowed her fear. Enormous dog's teeth were attached to her claws, just like Scorn did. Jay had always had those, but when you were about to battle her, it was much more intimidating.

Jay, taking note of their terror, crouched down low and wiggled her hindquarters. "Well?" she mewed slyly. "Aren't you going to attack me? Now that I know about your doings, you might as well."

Ember knew Jay was trying to trick them, but she couldn't decide whether to obey or stand still. It was as if Jay was beckoning them with her eyes. But Ember knew better. She didn't budge, glaring at Jay for expecting them to attack. They weren't that stupid!

Well, at least _she_ wasn't.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a cat step forward. Too much forward. "What are you mewing about?" a very familiar voice spat. "We're not going to do what you say!"

Ember closed her eyes. _Oh_, _great_ _Scourge_...she thought, digging her claws into the ground. _Night_.

Jay blinked innocently, cocking her head. "Oh really?" she mewed, baring impeccable white teeth. "I doubt it. You kits are so moronic, I bet if you saw a fox you would invite it over to eat chicken with you."

Night bristled. "What?" she exclaimed, purely furious. "Don't call my sisters stupid!" She arched her back and hissed, lowering herself to the ground.

_Oh_, _tails_ _and_ _whiskers_, Ember thought. _We_'_re_ _dead_ _rats_.

Jay moved her shoulders. "Come and get it," she growled darkly.

As Ember predicted, Night let her anger get the best of her. She leapt at Jay with her claws outstretched, reaching for her throat. Taking this as a signal to go into battle, the other cats launched themselves after her, all crowding towards Jay's thin black frame. Ember felt like banging her head against the ground. Instead, she let her frustration out on Jay, sprinting toward her as fast as she could.

Feeling rushed, Ember hoped with every stone's weight of her being that nobody would get hurt. Why, oh why did Night have to be so reckless?

It all happened at once. Ember was racing towards the mass, trying to find a spot to wedge herself in, and found herself colliding with a wreck of limbs and fur. Tumbling tail over paws, she struggled to get up, and was shocked to see Jay standing, unharmed, over to the side.

The black she-cat licked her jaws, amused. "How charming," she mewed in mock-adoration. "It seems you kits are way dumber than I thought. You know what went wrong, don't you? You all came rushing at me at once. Stupid! That way I can easily judge how long it will take you to get over to where I'm standing. Now you seven stupid cats are tangled up like a bunch of spiderwebs, and I'm over here, watching you make fools of yourselves." She tittered.

Night was the first to squeeze herself out of the crowd. "You tricked us!" she mewed accusingly.

Jay snorted. "Nice realization, but I just told you that. Now, you're not going to get all riled up again, are you? It's annoying me."

Ember, from her place in the struggling cats, saw the signs and grabbed Night's leg with her teeth, making her topple over. Night whipped around, glowering at Ember. Ember returned it.

"Don't be a pigeon-brain, Night," Ember hissed. "Do you know the reason we're losing? Because you got angry and attacked her. Don't listen to her."

Night yanked herself free, only to faceplant herself into the dirt. She got up, shaking herself, as Jay laughed. Ember scrambled out of the mass and jumped in front of Night protectively. The rest of the cats, wrenching themselves up, followed.

Jay sneered as she watched them take stance. "Oh, so you're ready to fight again," she mewed, a hint of disapproval in her voice. "Great. I can watch you mess up again. So. Who's gonna be the first kitty to take me on?"

Fury and Star padded forward. "Kittie_s_," they mewed at the same time. They began to circle Jay, making sure to stay on opposite sides of her.

Jay stood up, but didn't make a move. Ember noticed that, for whatever reason, she kept her eyes focused on Fury. Didn't she know that Star was the tricky one? Fury was hurt anyways, so wouldn't it be less risky to have her behind her instead of Star?

She could see Star back away from the circling, up to one of her tricks again. Jay's ears immediately pricked, and she turned around, much to Ember's surprise. Fury, taking advantage of this, leapt nimbly at Jay, not emitting any sound. She only screeched when she was half a tail-length away from Jay's ear.

Jay was a blur. She ducked, making Fury's green eyes go wide. Fury crashed into Star, her claws sinking into Star's side. Star howled. As soon as Fury made contact with Star, Fury flashed over to Fury- yes, flashed, not pounced...this was the only description Ember could come up with- and bit, hard, into Fury's back paw. Fury yowled, kicking up her back leg in defense, trying to claw Jay's face with her back paws. In the split second that Fury kicked up, Jay slipped her head under Fury's legs and headbutted her over, exposing her soft belly. Jay raised her claws, and brought them down on Fury's belly, four long red scratch marks left in their place.

Blood seeping down her belly, Fury squealed. Ember was horrified to hear her voice close into a whisper, but she didn't see her eyes cloud. Instead, Fury shut them tight, her paws shifting. Ember thought at first that she was dead, but she could still see the black she-cat's side moving down and up.

Star, her white fur bloodied, carefully and quickly removed herself out from under Fury. Staring in despair at her friend, Star reached out to paw her. "Fury...?"

Jay came up from behind, and slashed Star on the head. Star fell over, hitting the ground with a dull thump. She was also knocked out, but at least she was alive.

Ember slowly began to realize just how dangerous Jay really was.

Jay turned to the other cats, licking blood off her claws. "Next?" she mewed.

Finder stepped forward. Ember turned to her in alarm. Sensible Finder? The next one to step up? But then she saw the cold hurt in Finder's eyes at she stared at Fury. _Of_ _course_. _They_'_re_ _best_ _friends_.

Jay laughed as she saw how small Finder was. "Really? You?" she hissed. "You're so tiny. This will be boringly easy."

Finder didn't lose her patience, like Night would. "I'll fight you when I'm ready."

Jay shrugged dismissively, and began to circle the small tortoiseshell. "Do what you like. But don't get your hopes up, _little_ _kitty_."

Finder didn't move, letting Jay circle her like a hawk. She didn't even follow Jay with her eyes. Instead, she listened with her ears, breathing in deeply. Ember closed her eyes experimentally. She couldn't hear Jay's paws.

After a few moments of circling, Jay stopped, licking her paw. She watched as Finder's ears pricked, revolving and twitching at the sound of Jay's tongue. Jay squinted.

"Looks like I'm going to have to do something else with this one," she muttered under her breath. She turned away, her face a blank mask. Ember watched her, confused, as she treaded soundlessly up the hill of trash. Was she leaving?

Even after Jay's dark body had disappeared into the shadows, Finder still didn't move. The she-cat's eyes were shut tight, as if she was scared to open them. Rigid, she hunched over, her ears still twitching even though the only sound was the chirping of crickets.

Ember turned to the mountain of garbage once more. Jay couldn't have left. Could she? She narrowed her eyes at the top of the hill where she had last seen Jay.

And before she could react, a black blur appeared in the moonlight, and landed on top of Finder.

Finder yowled in surprise, wheezing for breath. The impact of Jay seemed to have shocked her, and her head dropped to the ground.

Finder was defeated now, too.

Ember was still dazed from the attack, but happy and perplexed at the fact that Jay hadn't snapped Finder's spine- however she had pulled it off. Jay hopped off of Finder, staring at the four remaining cats.

Ember saw something quivering in hindsight. She turned to see Rage trembling, his face frighteningly furious. His gaze flickered back and forth from Finder to Jay. Ember was confused. Why was Rage so...enraged? He hadn't been like this with Fury and Star.

Then it dawned on her. Looking at Rage, she just knew.

_Rage_ _loves_ _Finder_.

She looked back at all the times when Rage had tripped over a pebble or fallen into a mud pit. Finder had always been around. He was in love with her. He had been in love with her all his life.

Rage snarled at Jay. "I'm going to kill you," he mewed. His voice was serious, more serious than Ember had ever heard him before. Quickly, Ember put her tail in front of him, stopping him.

"No, Rage," she mewed. "Think before you act. She keeps defeating us because we only attack singularly or in twos. We should attack all at once this time." She tried to meet his eyes, but they were still fixed on Jay. She nudged him. "Okay?"

Mist and Night stepped up, surrounding Rage. He breathed heavily through his nostrils. "Okay," he growled, gritting his teeth. As soon as the words left his mouth, he was in the air, leaping not to Jay, but over her.

He was still using his old battle tactics- dodge and hope that eventually he'd be able to get a few hits. Jay grinned evilly as she heard Rage take flying leaps behind her, his claws stretched towards her neck. Instead of whipping around to greet him with her claws (like Ember hoped she would so she and her sisters could leap at her) she ducked. Rage smashed immediately into the ground, skidding through the dirt. Rage cursed, trying to flip over on his side. Ember glanced at the foreleg he had landed on...it looked wrong; all twisted up.

Jay sniffed. "Aww, poor little kitty trying to defend his friends...you were too easy, Rage." She stepped lightly over him, heading towards the three remaining cats. Ember watched as he pitifully tried to bite at her retreating paws with his teeth. She could barely take it anymore.

Jay was right in front of her, her whiskers almost intertwined with Ember's. "Oh, so it's you three," she mewed nonchalantly. She licked her paw once, cleaning off the extra blood from earlier. "Hm, let's see...oh, yes. You're Scrap's kits. The high-ranked ones." She laughed, her breath clouding Ember's nostrils. Ember almost choked in surprise- it smelled like dry ice.

Jay whisked herself behind them, but Ember didn't dare turn around. What if the black cat clawed at her face? She instead tried to look intently at Rage. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing in short breaths. She figured that he had fainted from the pain, which was just like him. She wished she had never tried to challenge Jay in the first place.

The leader's daughter snickered, her pawsteps having ceased. "Four kits Scrap has," she mewed, her voice like dry leaves swirling in the wind. "Cement, Ember, Night, and Mist...oh, yeah, I was wrong. Five kits, including Ice."

Ember's fur rose at the mention of her deceased sister. How dare Jay bring that up? 

"I remember Ice," Jay mewed coldly. "She was such a coward, just like you three. Too goody-goody...such a shame. If she had a better attitude, she wouldn't be gone now."

Ember knew it sounded like a regular insult, but there was something in Jay's voice that suggested something else. She gasped. "Wh-what...what do you know about Ice?" she squeaked.

"Hold on a minute," Jay mewed. Ember heard the swift whoosh of paws, and her ears pricked as she heard screeches on both sides of her. Night and Mist fell to the ground, tiny drops of blood welling from their heads. Ember scrambled around, looking at Jay. Fresh blood stained her claws.

"Night...Mist..." she mewed, alternating her gaze between them. She glared at Jay. "Tell me about Ice...right now."

Jay giggled. "Wait...one last thing." She bounded up the mountain of trash, picking around in the garbage. Ember stiffened. Was she going to do the same thing with her as she did to Finder?

"Ah, here we go." Jay came back down the hill with three things in her mouth...a dirty old can, a piece of something that looked like sand-coated bark, and a box of little sticks with red ends. Ember stood still, trying to figure out what Jay was doing.

She watched closely as Jay shook the sticks out of the box, taking one in her teeth. Moving the sandy-colored bark with her paw, she scraped it hastily across the surface, and Ember was alarmed to see the cushy red tip of the stick burst into flame. Jay stared into Ember's eyes, and immediately regretted it. Once again, Jay's eyes froze her into place.

Jay swiped the burning stick across the old can, lighting it. She pushed the unlit part of the can with her paw, circling Ember with flame. Ember yelped as heat surrounded her, the bright orange flames leaping towards the sky.

Jay tossed the stick into a nearby puddle, then stared into Ember's eyes. "Alley cats didn't kill Ice," she mewed. "I did."

Ember jerked. "What?" she mewed in disbelief.

Jay shushed her. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. She's not your real sister anyway." Her cold blue gaze stabbed at Ember. And before she could reply, Jay leaned toward her, pushing her head above the flame. _And her whiskers didn't light_.

"You're the reason my father barely ever looks at me anymore," she snarled. "You. Your stupid fire-colored eyes...that's why he picked you up from the forest. That's why he gave you to Scrap, and made you and your sisters his trainees!"

Ember's head spun, and she began to cough from the smoke. "Wh-what are you talking about?" Her vision began to sway. "What..." She crumpled, her limbs suddenly feeling like goo.

"You can remember that when you're dead, little kitty," she mewed. "Say goodbye!" Jay raced away, leaving Ember in the flames.

Ember couldn't move. She coughed, wheezing for air. She mashed her head into the dirt...the cold, inviting dirt.

Everything was starting to go black. In the distance, she saw a shadow coming toward her. Jay?

No, it was a bigger figure. Large, lean, with tufted ears. As the cat came closer, just before she blacked out, she saw its gray-black fur.

_Sulfur_.

**R&R. **

**Agh. I don't feel like doing a Q&A thing right now, because I'm tired and I have to get ready for soccer practice. Bye bye. **


	9. The Secret

**Urg. I'm back. I'm kind of in a bad mood, so let's hope my attitude won't influence my writing. **

THE SECRET

When Ember woke up, everything was dark and spinning, like a black whirlpool. It took her a while to get back to her senses, but when she did, she smelled smoke all around her. A dull, thick pain in her back leg.

She didn't want to move, in case she had seriously hurt something. She remembered the battle only vaguely, but one memory stabbed at her: _I_ _hesitated_. _I_ _got_ _scared_, _like_ _a_ _little_ _mouse_. _Paralyzed_, _like_ _a_ _frightened_ _rabbit_. Rat dung!

Even though her head hurt and she didn't feel like thinking, she let her mind expand. She didn't care where she was; she was satisfied with the location so long as she was safe. No awful sneers or slicing claws greeted her, so she thought she must've been dragged out of the spot. She coughed, her throat feeling like it was coated with cement, remembering the intense heat of the flames around her. What was it Jay had said? Was it a threat? More importantly, at least to Ember...how had her whiskers avoided the flame? The silvery lines had cut right through the fire, as if invincible.

She tried to think further, making her ears twitch. Someone had come to save her. Just before she blacked out, that shape, that gray-black outline..._Sulfur_. Her savior. The cat who was like a father to her.

As the pain in her leg subsided, Ember got bored with thinking and decided to move around a bit. As soon as she stretched out her limbs she knew she was more than just sore. A ripping, searing agony blazed from the toes of her back left leg up her flank, clambering. She winced, gritting her teeth so she wouldn't yowl, grinding her incisors back and forth to the switching of her stiff, raggedy tail. She breathed deeply, hoping maybe it would make things better. But it didn't. Her leg still throbbed, she still couldn't move, and she still didn't know where she was.

She opened her mouth slightly, trying to detect scent. A tiny tendril snaked past her tongue, flooding into her scent glands. She swallowed down the sweet, fresh smell...the smell of grass. Unpolluted by Twoleg smells, grass wasn't cloying, but it wasn't sour. It was just right.

She followed the aroma, scooting her rear end on the smooth, rocky surface until she spotted fronds of green tucked into a large, crinkled cardboard box. She leaned over, her back muscles tight, and sniffed once. Immediately she drew back in alarm. She knew that scent.

_Scorn_- _this_ _is_ _Scorn_'_s_ _nest_!

Panic coursed through her like blood through her veins. How had she gotten here? She couldn't have gotten here herself. Not with this wound on her leg. (She couldn't twist around to see it, but she could feel it all right.) Someone must've placed her here intentionally. And what cat would dare enter Scorn's nest without granted permission; who would bring an unconcious kit here. It either had to be Scorn himself, or someone close to him.

She traced her thoughts again (she had to replay the event in her head every once in a while, as she was still woozy), and she came up with enough evidence to assume it was Sulfur who had brought her here. But there was another problem- why didn't Sulfur bring her back to Scrap? And where were the others? Sulfur loved them all equally; he would never abandon one of them. Obviously Sulfur wanted to associate Ember with Scorn somehow. With a tantalizing twinge, she remembered Scrap's words: "Scorn is to train you." She was, in some way, special. Scorn was going to train her, so he valued her. Somehow.

She knew, deep in the back of her mind...that there was a valid reason for this- and that she had been informed of these reasons. But when? She felt like it hadn't been very long ago. Then, she remembered, ever so slightly..._Jay_! It was Jay who said it! Something about Scorn...something about Scrap...but her memories were all fuzzy, and it hurt to think.

So she sat there, motionless, as if waiting for her fate to come upon her. There was nothing else to do...moving was out of the question; it felt like red-hot porcupine quills were twisting inside of her leg and movement would only make it worse. Her back left leg felt like it was beating along with her heart, each gush of blood sending a severe wrenching of excruciation through it. Her head pounded along with it; she wished she could go back to sleep and make the pain and confusion go away...

Suddenly a dark shape shifted among the shadows, and adrenaline rushed through her. Her eyes opened wide and she instinctively sat up (causing her to wince as her back leg throbbed rigorously). She ignored the pain, as if she were trying to prove herself...earlier, during the fight, she had backed down, she had stood rooted to her spot like a vulnerable tree sapling in a pit of mud. But she found she couldn't be brave; she had been asleep a long time and she wasn't ready to fight. She didn't even want to, not in her condition, and she didn't plan on budging anyway. She just wanted to seem like she posed a threat.

She felt the fur on her back spike, her hisses knife cleanly through the air. But the shadow, tall and lanky, didn't seem fazed. It oozed across the walls, and Ember shook wildly. It seemed like a ghostly figure. The shadow was a thing in itself. Moved on its own, seeping across surfaces, lunging for throats and injecting darkness into warm flesh...

But then, as soon as it had come, it vanished. Flitting away. Another shadow replaced it- rounder, more shapely. She could hear pawsteps on the gritty earth. A familiar scent wafted into her nostrils, and it was enough for her to regain all her energy. She sat up abruptly, her eyes gleaming with mixed happiness and relief. "Sulfur!"

The gray-black cat rounded the corner, looking ragged and tired. His expression lit as he caught sight of Ember. "Ember!" he mewed, his voice light and clear. "You're awake. And good thing, too...I thought Jay had gotten you."

Ember managed a meager smile, but her strength was fading. She wanted to fall back asleep, but at the same time she didn't- she was so glad to see Sulfur. Maybe he would tell her what happened. "What happened? Where is everybody?"

Sulfur breathed a deep sigh. "Oh...I forgot. You've probably suffered mild amnesia from breathing too much smoke. Well...from the information I could gather, you, your sisters, Fury, Finder, Star, and Rage were tussling with Jay. Not a very smart thing to do. She hurt all of you pretty badly...and since she's a pyro, like her father, she knows how to light fires. I do believe she lit one around you, Ember. That burn on your leg didn't come from nowhere."

As Sulfur spoke, memories flooded back into Ember's mind. She craned her neck, her muscles tensing up, and looked at her leg. _Gross_. The fur had been burned away, and there was an angry, flaky pink scab lined with black. The visuals added on to her pain, and she grunted, her legs sliding out from beneath her. She could see the fire in her mind now. Uncontrollable resplendent flame, curling, bending, interweaving. Everywhere, putting spots in her eyes. She pressed her paws over her eyes. _Jay_. Jay had almost killed her.

She was too weary to be too mad at the black she-cat. Trying to limit her mews, she asked feebly, "How did you put the fire out?"

Sulfur began to speak, but he was cut off by another voice. One that was lustrous; devious. Her eyes popped open and her head twisted. She knew that long shadow- she listened to the voice with awe swelling in her chest.

"...He didn't put out the fire. I did." A stretchy, jet-black thing coiled into view. Bluish stripes of light lined their flank. She couldn't believe it- it was Scorn, the leader, in front of her very eyes! And so close, too. "We came in the nick of time. Aren't you so glad to be alive, troublesome kit?"

Ember didn't want to seem kittish in his presence, but then she gulped- Scorn was dangerous. She'd forgotten that. She sat upright despite her weariness, trying not to sit on her wound. And, judging by his mews- "troublesome kit"- he wasn't happy. Ember quivered. What would he do? She'd gone off without permission and fought his _daughter_. Her eyes were fixed on his enormous claws. She could very much imagine those claws raking down her soft kit underbelly.

If she hadn't known better, she would've started rapidly apologizing. But the best thing to do was to keep your mouth shut; she knew that from watching Night get into mischief. Regular warriors were bad enough when you messed with them, but with Scorn, your life was at stake. She could feel his bright yellow eyes, like crescent moons, boring into hers. "My, my, my. What are we going to do with you?" His tail-tip flogged from side to side.

Sulfur's gray-black fur rose on his shoulders. He butt in quickly, changing the subject. "Ember, do you remember anything from the night before? You should try. Think."

Relieved that she didn't have to answer Scorn's questions, Ember tried not to concentrate on his lean figure looming over her. She swallowed, diving into her memories. She could remember all the blood, all the horror and fear as she watched all her friends go down like prey. Jay possessed such power that it shook her up, even now. She definitely had her father in her- there was no doubt she would be the next leader. How interesting it would be, the first BloodClan leader to be a she-cat. Thinking of Jay was the most important part. She couldn't stop itching about what Jay had told her. Something...secret. A secret about her. She could practically feel the heat of the fire around her paws. What _was_ it...?

Then she remembered a single meow.

_Scrap_.

Something about Scrap. She tried to think deeper. Who was Scrap? Scrap was a queen, a BloodClan queen, and she had four kits...no, five...her, Night, Mist, Cement, and the late Ice. That sent a shiver through her, just the name. It was like that name held secrets, too. It probably did, but she just had to think. Scrap was black-and-white, and didn't look a thing like any of them, not even Night, who shared pelt colors with her. Their father, Snook, didn't look like them, either. It wasn't right. Their older brother, Cement, was distant towards them. They were BloodClan kits, so they were supposed to be cold and sadistic anyway, but not in that way. Her eyes compressed, and last night came back to her. What Jay had said.

"_I killed Ice_..."

"_You're a bunch of forest kits_..."

Recognition hit her like hawk talons. She bristled. "I'm a forest kit," she mewed, staring blankly ahead. She couldn't believe what she was mewing. Spilling out. "I'm not Scrap's kit...none of us are..." She looked up at Scorn, her eyes indicating slight indictment. "You...picked us up from the forest, and you brought us here..."

Scorn laughed hollowly. Somehow, it made her feel better. "I was wondering when you would catch on," he mewed approvingly. "At least you know now. And, now that you do, I'll tell you the whole story so you won't have to wonder anymore.

"I was milling through the forest, as I've been invading the four Clans there. Our first target was ThunderClan camp, since it's surrounded by trees and is destroyed very easily. Most of the cowards ran away, but two stayed- a mother and a father. _Your_ real mother," Scorn looked at Ember as he said this. Did she spy a hint of sympathy on his face? "_Your _real father."

A mother and father...she had them. Scrap and Snook weren't related to her in the least. Great Scourge- she could've been plopped down with anyone and she would think they were her mother.

"Your mother was a tortoiseshell and your father a black-and-white tom," Scorn continued. I did away with him- no, I did not kill him, I only knocked him out temporarily. But your mother is dead- she died having you. She might not have, but there was too much smoke."

It hit Ember with a jolt. _My_ _real_ _mother_ _is_ _dead_. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she would rather get clawed than cry in front of Scorn. She rubbed at her eyes, trying not to be sad. She didn't even know her mother, after all.

"Because of this, we took you away, and gave you to Scrap. Since her kit, Ice, had just died, we gave you and your sisters to her as a gift. We thought it would be better for you to find this out on your own, but it seems my kit Jay intended to kill you when she told you these secrets." He shook his head. Ember remembered more...what Jay had said.

"_You're the reason my father never pays attention to me anymore_."

Why was that?

Ember tried to think of everything. So, Cement wasn't their real brother. That was fine- he didn't feel like a brother anyway. But not having Scrap as a mother- it hit her hard. Like getting whacked on the ear.

But Scorn wasn't done. "You kits are special because of this. I won't have any warrior train you; they'd train you the wrong way. For you to be trained properly, you will be trained by me- as Scrap told you."

Ember couldn't believe it. All this was too much to take in- it was overwhelming. Scrap had told her this fact before, but hearing it come from Scorn's mouth...it felt a lot more powerful. No wonder Jay hated her and her sisters...Scorn was treating them nicely, _too_ nicely.

Scorn nodded, as if he was agreeing with himself. "In fact, you kits are getting too big to be causing mischief in the nursery anymore. You'll be apprenticed tomorrow, and we can start training. But for now, we'll get Ashes out to look at that leg. Your sisters are waiting for you back in the nursery. Fair enough?" With a flourish, the black cat turned tail and walked nonchalantly away. Sulfur looked over his shoulder, half worried and half amused, and then trotted swiftly after the leader.

Ember blinked. What had just happened? She had so many questions in her head- _I was taken from a forest-cat Clan called ThunderClan? Is that why I'm always getting into mischief? Maybe me and Night and Mist aren't meant to be BloodClanners. Oh, Jay is going to kill me...because she failed to kill me last time. Ha-ha, that idiot cat, now I know her big secret! But wait, I'll have to keep it to myself, or else...or else something. I can't believe Scorn is training me. Great Scourge, it's a miracle, he was actually nice to me! Hold on a second- how did he light fire at camp? He's a pyro, right? I was born in a fire- maybe it's an omen that I have fire-colored eyes. Okay, that's just silly. It's probably some rare disease or something. We're apprentices tomorrow, I can't believe it! I have to tell Mist and Night about this. I have to_.

_But wait_.

_Why didn't we die in the smoke_?

_Where is my father now_?

_What will this mean for us_?

_What comes of a bunch of forest fools in a Clan like BloodClan_?

**R&R. Yay, finally, a new chapter posted. **

**Question & Answer Time: **

**1. Ooh! Are they gonna find out what happens to Reedtail?  
>Maaybbee. <strong>

**2. Who is Ashes?  
>He's the Clan Healer, or medicine cat. He's listed in the Allegiances. <strong>

**3. Why is Scorn all of a sudden nice?  
>Remember, he thinks Ember's eyes are an omen too. He thinks he's <strong>_**meant**_** to train them. Silly Scorn, what a cute kitty! :3**

**4. You know that thing Scorn said, at the beginning of the story? Something about how the other Clans wouldn't care if Scorn stole ThunderClan's kits? What's that all about?  
>Remember, Scorn is a very charming cat. He can pretty much convince anyone of anything. That's my only hint.<strong>

**Bye now! You be a good person and review!**


	10. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**I am postponing Stolen for a while. There are a few reasons for this. **

**1. I used to like Warriors. Now it's pretty boring, and I don't like cats as much. (I'm into dogs/ wolves now). **

**2. I have Writer's Block. Big time. **

**3. I'm already writing Harry Potter stories on my other file, and it's hard to get reviews on Harry Potter stories. So I have to work on making the stories really good. **

**But just as a reassurance- **

**1. I will get back to it, and hopefully continue the Stolen series. **

**2. I'm more than halfway done with the next chapter. I'll have it up as soon as I finish it- but it might take a while. **

**-Thanks for your cooperation. **

**-Aroeheart**


	11. Sly as a Fox

**Hell-o! I know I haven't posted in a while, but whatever.  
>Reply to my latest reviews:<br>Am I not allowed to inform my readers of an inconvenience? It seems very well like you're trying to make people dislike the site. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors. If I did, then Daisy would just be a flower. **

SLY AS A FOX

-TRAINING, DAY ONE-

"So you found out,"

Ember's head swiveled around, and she found herself facing a lithe gray tom with crooked whiskers. At first she didn't recognize the face, but then she saw the light markings around the cat's eyes. It was Stone. The cat who had supposedly been her brother- up until now.

Ember shifted her gaze. She had never had much interest in Stone- he was quiet, and as bland as his name. There were way more important things to focus on than him. And now that he wasn't even her brother, why did he even matter? Ember pawed uncomfortably at a slice in her ear, which had become itchy. "What are you talking about?"

Stone's pale yellow eyes narrowed into contemptuous slits. "You know. About how…you're not really my sister."

Ember moved her head a little to the side. "Um…yeah." She didn't like conversations like this. She preferred getting straight to the point.

One of Stone's raggedy ears pivoted to the side, as if flicking at a mosquito. "And…you're getting trained by Scorn…right?" He swept his paw pad over the rough, concrete-infested soil, scattering off-white grains. Ember tried to read his face, but it was a stony mask of blankness. Like his name.

"What are you saying?"

Stone drew back his lips, his white canines glistening. "You're actually going to do it?" he scoffed. "You're pigeon-brained. You'll be scraps of fur before you even finish the first session of training."

Ember was surprised. Stone had never said much to her, and he was choosing now- their first actual interaction- as a time to insult her. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. "I won't be!" she protested, trying to build up a fierce tone but ending up sounding like a little kit. She knew she shouldn't stand up to a superior- it was perfectly allowed for him to harm her- but she wanted to be courageous. As if that would actually do anything. "Scorn chose to train me. He wouldn't kill me."

Stone shrugged indifferently. "I don't know. BloodClan cats are cold-blooded killers, him especially. He might just want to toy around with you for the fun of it."

Ember opened her mouth to retort, but the words stuck in her throat. What could she say to that? It could be true, after all. Her head filled with thoughts of humiliation and paranoia, and by the time she could mew again Stone had already walked away. She sat stock-still, stewing over what he had said. She was ashamed of herself for trying to answer back to him, surprised that he'd been so impolite, and now suspicious of Scorn's real intentions. But then she reminded herself this was BloodClan, and mercilessness was the norm. She shouldn't have had her expectations so high. And even if she wasn't brave, which she wanted to be, she didn't have a choice. That's just the way it was.

For a split second Ember wished the circumstances were different. And in that same split second she wondered what it would be like to live in the forest, her real home. Would things be different- easier?

But the wondering was pushed away roughly by other thoughts. Even if Stone was right, she had a training session in a few minutes. She couldn't miss it- it was the only thing she had to look forward to.

Viper spat.

It was a thing he often did- he thought it made him look tougher. That, and he saw Scorn do it a lot, except Scorn did it subconsciously. He wouldn't admit it, but Viper copied everything Scorn did. He presumed, and incorrectly presumed, that he would eventually be promoted if he followed the leader around long enough. So far it hadn't worked- Scorn ignored Viper for the most part- but Viper didn't get the memo. He wasn't very bright in that area, or at all for that matter.

The skinny black tom began to lick his claws clean as the two cats beside him bickered. The first cat was a sleek, unusually attractive (for a BloodClan cat) she-cat with reddish and white tabby fur and fur that grew in long tufts around her ears and cheeks. Her yellow eyes were wide with fury. Her name was Mink, and she was hissing at a scraggly brown tom. Their backs were both arched in hostility.

"What are you talking about?" Mink was growling between her sharp white teeth. "Are you stupid? This will never work!"

"Why don't you tell that to Scorn, then? It was his idea!" the tom spat back. He was named Chipper, for his unkempt fur. "I know it sounds ridiculous- even I'll say that- but we have to go through with it! Who knows what Scorn will do to us if we don't?"

That seemed to stop Mink. She sat back, her fur settling back onto her back. She exhaled slowly, composing herself. "I guess you're right," she mumbled. Her lengthy whiskers jolted uncomfortably. "But I sure hope Scorn knows what he's doing."

Viper's green eyes slit at this statement. He approached Mink menacingly, raising a set of claws to her throat. "Don't disrespect Scorn, Mink."

Mink snorted. "Oh, do you think I need advice from you, suck-up? It disgusts me how you grovel. You're like an omega."

Viper yowled, rocketing towards Mink and pinning her into the dirt. Mink yelped, and tried to throw Viper off. The two rolled around on the ground, Mink swiping irratibly at Viper's nose and catching him in the face. Viper roared in pain as four clean scratches opened on the bridge of his nose and began to spew blood all over his jet-black fur.

"Stop it, you two!" Chipper ordered. Mink managed to stop the rolling, and heaved Viper off. He landed ungracefully on his side with a thump while Mink stood up and dusted herself off in annoyance. Viper followed soon after, the two looking flustered and awkward.

Chipper sat, his tail pressing into the rocky earth. "Okay…we can make this work. I know it seems impossible- after all, we're going to be communicating with the forest cats- but Scorn is The Master of Flames! Utterly persuasive! He'll figure something out."

Mink raised one shoulder halfheartedly, while Viper dabbed at his bleeding nose with a paw. Chipper nodded in approval. "Good. Now- we have to go get Sneer and Kilo; we're bringing them with us. We're leaving tonight at the trash-pile, soon as the moon rises. Got it?"

Mink nodded primly; Viper was still busy mopping at his nose and muttering little "ow"s under his breath. Chipper scratched uncertainly at his fur.

"Great Scourge…I hope our leader knows what he's doing…"

Ember was trembling. And she wasn't the only one. Mist, who sat beside her, was shaking like a leaf. The only one who looked genuinely excited was Night, whose blue eyes were as bright and perky as stars.

"Oh, Scourge," she squeaked, her long, pointy ears pivoting back and forth. "This is going to be fantastic. Can you believe it? We're actually training with the real-live Scorn, son of Scourge! This is impossible…"

Mist only whimpered. Ember shot Night a look. "Quit chattering," she mewed sourly. "This isn't something to be excited about. Really, think about it. Scorn could rip us to pieces any time he wanted to. He's the leader and he does things like that every day. How do we know this isn't just a trick?" Her voice quavered.

Mist shrank back, her green eyes glittering. "Please don't say stuff like that, Ember…you're scaring me out of my fur." She closed her eyes and looked as if she might faint any moment. "Honestly. I don't feel too well- I think I might have eaten some bad garbage earlier…" She put a subtle white paw over her stomach.

Night swatted at a fly buzzing around her head. "Oh hush, Mist, you're fine. Stop making excuses. Even if Scorn does try to hurt us for real, I'll stop him. Even if it means getting hurt myself."

Mist's brow crinkled up. "You would do that, wouldn't you, Night? That's just like you."

"Nothing wrong with that."

Ember's canines sunk into her lip, and she chewed at it apprehensively. "You won't be saying that when you see his claws. Don't you ever look at them? They're huge- he reinforces them with dog teeth, I think."

Mist shuddered, tingles traveling up the length of her spinal cord. "I know. That's what his father used to do. And I also hear he beat a whole legion of forest cats, single-pawed. Do you believe that?"

Night dipped her head respectfully. "I sure do. He's one powerful cat. Not only does he have massive claws, extra-long teeth, and amazing skill, but he's sly. Sly as a fox. He can trick you into doing anything. I hear one time three she-cats disobeyed, and he seduced them into walking right into a dog's lair. And that 'Master of Flames' thing? It's not just a title. It's real. He has a gift with fire. They say fire starts in his path, and goes out just as quickly- it's like the flames obey him. Like he's really their master."

As they lamented over this, a cold, icy laugh echoed around the den walls. "How fascinating. I'm surprised you know so much about me."

The sisters' heads swiveled in sync towards the voice, which undoubtedly belonged to The Master of Flames himself. He seemed especially well-groomed, his fur sleek and black. It glowed blue in the soft light. His eyes were yellow jewels, glinting like a snake's. He looked terrifying yet absolutely stunning in the etched moonlight. Ember could see why Raven had fallen in love with him.

Scorn raised one slender paw, and yet again was reminded of just how huge his claws were. They were ivory-colored and stained with what was probably old blood. Ember felt a surge of fear, exhilaration, and admiration for the leader. She had a sudden urge to bow, but knew it would be stupid and risky.

Night was bold, though. She stretched forward, as if trying to touch him. Her whiskers were taut. "O-of course we do!" Night mewed. It was the first time in her life Ember had ever heard her sister stutter. "You're a great leader. We hear so much about you."

Scorn's lips jerked slightly. He was smiling. "I imagine you would," he murmured.

Ember relaxed a bit. He seemed pretty calm. He might strike any moment, though- his one talent was to manipulate. As sly as a fox, just like Night said. But it was nothing like the night she had woken up in his den, where every movement she made increased the tension in the air. Now she felt a little less threatened, like Scorn was just a mysterious tom and not a feared dictator. She even detected some amusement in his eyes.

"Well, here you are," Scorn mewed. "Your first training session, held by me. I can tell you're eager." His tail uncurled, unraveling itself in a way that seemed cobra-like.

The three apprentices stayed still, waiting for further instructions. Scorn shifted his gaze from each one of them, evaluating them. His eyes rested on Ember, and she broke out in a cold sweat. Had she done something wrong? She poised herself to run away.

Suddenly Scorn laughed, an icy laugh that sounded like glass shattering. Ember bit into her lip, hard. Scorn's eyes settled on her. His pupils had shrunken a bit. "I can smell your fear," he mewed. "I know you were going to run away. I'm not stupid, kit. Even if you could run away, catching you would be as simple as catching a bug."

Ember was stabbed with more fear, but she forced it back. He was trying to intimidate her- make her fear him. Even if she did, she had to stifle it. She tried to retain it, and knew it would be a struggle. Luckily, Scorn seemed more focused on her now. He was staring right into her eyes, and it made Ember shudder.

"Your eyes," he whispered. "The reason I took you in- the reason you met any of us. The reason you were fortunate enough to fall into my claws." He leaned closer- giving Ember the impulse to lean away, but she didn't want him to laugh anymore. His breath smelled like old rat bones, concrete, and- inexplicably- mint.

"Red, orange, and yellow…like fire," he mewed. That was all he said, for about a minute. The whole time he was staring at her, unblinking, and it made Ember fidget.

Finally he looked at Mist. He looked her down and up, licking his lips. "Hmm…very fine-looking," he observed. Mist blushed. "Not exactly BloodClan material, but still a nice feature. I sense your determination- but your fear-scent is particularly strong. You'll need some work done on that."

Mist gulped. Ember wished she could comfort her- even if she was the youngest, she felt like the older sister to them both.

He turned towards Night. She stood up tall as soon as his eyes fell on her. Scorn narrowed his eyes. "Hmm…barely any fear-scent. Interesting. Very confident- confidence is definitely an advantage, but it can be a disadvantage, too. You're foolish not to fear me more, little kit. I could easily turn you into scraps. I could feed you to the vultures if I wanted to."

Night faltered. She looked down, looking a bit ashamed of herself.

Scorn leaned back, and the suspense in the air dissolved. "Very well," he meowed. He started pacing. "Today we're focusing on evading. Survival is essential in BloodClan, and a few puny kits like you will definitely need it."

"And without further ado…"

Ember blinked.

"…We will begin our training."

And with that, his paw became a flash.

In that instant, Ember's mind was completely blank. She thought that Scorn's leg had disappeared, it was so quick. And then there was numbness, colors flying above her. It was several seconds before she could feel the blow, the throbbing pain on her face. Warm blood flowed down her chin and dripped onto the floor. It took her a while to process that Scorn had just struck her, and she had flown across the den and hit the wall.

"Ember!" Mist squealed, but then clapped her paw over her mouth. It was too late; Scorn lunged towards her, biting down on her neck. Mist made a hoarse sound as Scorn's powerful jaws suffocated her. Scorn's head wrenched backwards, Mist's body hanging limply in his jaws, and flung her towards Ember. She hit the wall with a sickening crack and slid down, blood trailing from her flank. She lay there, stunned.

Night had reacted quickly. Ember was shocked that she hadn't made some sort of stand, where she would tell off Scorn for hitting her sisters. Maybe it was Scorn's disapproval of her confidence that had shut her up. Anyway, she seemed to know that it was a race for survival, because she began to scamper in the opposite direction, trying to evade Scorn's blows.

So that was what he meant, Ember thought.

Even though her nose hurt where Scorn had hit it, Ember knew it was only a matter of time before Scorn lunged for her again. She nudged Mist up and ran in zigzag lines, not quite sure what she was doing. Mist hobbled after her, sniffling and breathing fast.

Scorn had spotted her. Ember leapt backwards, but Scorn noticed her movement at the last second and used his hind legs to propel him forward. He caught her on the side, pummeling the breath out of her. Ember tumbled lightly and stopped only when she came to the wall. Rocks showered down on her. She lay there, gasping for breath. How had he done that? He was using techniques she'd never even seen before. It was unbelievable- so unbelievable that she almost stopped hurting for a second.

Mist was actually doing better than Ember was. She was smaller and lighter than Ember, so she could make farther leaps. She had sprung upwards to avoid Scorn's claws when he caught her on the tail, swung her in a circular motion, and threw her at the floor. She skid, all four paws splayed, on the gravelly dirt.

Night had been keeping behind him the whole time, and now leapt at him. Ember could tell by the way Scorn's ears revolved that he had heard her, but he didn't move out of the way. Night landed squarely on his back, in between his shoulder blades, and bit down. Scorn acted like he didn't notice her. Then, abruptly, he turned over and smashed his back into the ground, smashing Night with him. Ember could only hear the squeak. Scorn got up, shook himself off, and pushed Night with his paw. She went sailing towards Ember and Mist, and then they were laying there in a heap. Dusty, bloody, and panting for breath.

Scorn snorted. "Pitiful," he sneered. "Absolutely pitiful." He had a look of utmost scorn on his face, like his name. He turned away like he was too disgusted to look at them, and Ember had a feeling that he was.

"Class dismissed," he hissed. "I have a meeting to go to. Next time, don't disappoint me."

And he stalked away.

The three kittens laid there, dazed and slightly unaware of what had just happened. Their first training session had lasted only a couple of minutes. And had they even learned anything?

Night scrambled up after some time, and looked in awe at where Scorn had departed. "What did I tell you?" she mewed, still out of breath. "Sly as a fox."

**Meh. I don't feel like doing any Q&A.**


End file.
